The Cursebreaker and the Goblet of Fire
by SwordGold
Summary: The next book following 'The Cursebreaker and the Prisoner of Azkaban', taking place during the events of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire from the perspective of everybody's favourite Hogwarts Mystery character.
1. Prologue

_Hello, my fellow Potterheads!_

_As you have requested another story, I have of course come bearing the gifts of (you guessed it) another story! This story takes place in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, all from the P.O.V of everybody's favourite Hogwarts Mystery main character, and a year after one of my one-shots 'A Very Weasley Christmas'. Here's the first snippet! I hope you enjoy it! - S.G._

Author's Note: So, as those who have recently played Hogwarts Mystery may already know there is a reason why I had to update these chapters. I don't want to put the specific reason in writing because: A) those who have played the game will already be of what happened, B) I wouldn't want to spoil the game for those who haven't played up to that stage yet and C) I haven't come to accept the fact that it has actually happened.

I might even write a memorial series for it but at the moment, though it might seem silly, I'm still at a loss for words.

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter_

* * *

**Back to the Burrow**

* * *

Charlie sighed, trudging up the drive towards the Burrow, unable to help but recall the last time they'd come up here together last Christmas.

Coming home was great, but he had been hoping to bring a certain young Cursebreaker with him.

_Charlie nervously played with her fingers as they walked down Ottery Street and up the drive towards the Burrow hand-in-hand. _

_Her eyes shone as she took it all in; the chickens pecking in the yard by the vegetable patch; over the garden of blossoms and pumpkins the size of mini cars towards the house of faded teal all held up by magic. _

"_I know it's nothing much," he said quickly, following her gaze as the gate swung in automatically. _

"_I think it's great," she replied happily, the sun catching her long brown hair so that it shimmered reddish auburn in the evening light, and Charlie averted his gaze back down to his boots as a wonderful wave of warmth washed over him. _

He smiled slightly at the memory and shook his head. Her life had always been busy, and now, being the new Head-Cursebreaker he supposed that she had even more responsibilities to fulfil: Breaking curses, uncovering secrets – the work was never over for a talented Cursebreaker such as herself, and there was, he reminded himself, always next year to look forward to …

"Where's your girlfriend?" Bill chimed, ruffling his younger brother's hair as he slung his other arm over his shoulder.

Charlie flushed, "How did you … she's … she's in Australia," he replied finally, shrugging his brother off as he kicked another pebble into the frog pond.

"But I thought you said she'd be here for the Quidditch World Cup …" Bill frowned.

Charlie sighed as he sat down on one of the nearest rocks, "She's in the middle of some excavation work with some indigenous elders."

"Oh, at Uluru?" Bill blinked, "I heard about that. Did you know that she's the first witch to have ever been able to communicate with the indigenous elder wizards? Apparently their tribe refuse to speak to the other Australian folk at the Ministry but they let her in with open arms …"

"Yeah, impressive stuff," Charlie grumbled, as he watched the tadpoles swim around his feet with a dejected expression on his face.

"Look, mate, I know it's lousy …"

"It's not like I'm not proud of her, because I am: she's bloody amazing and brilliant at what she does but sometimes I wish that …" he shook his head, "I don't know …"

"It's not the same without her is it?"

"To put it mildly, yeah."

Bill crouched down beside him; "Well I have an idea that might cheer you up a bit …"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, "Such as?"

"Table battles?"

Charlie grinned, "Oh you are _so_ on."

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

* * *

"Wotcher! Welcome back!" Tonks yelled, her voice ringing through the Ministry atrium as she enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Ah, Tonks … can't … breathe …"

"Oops, sorry." The witch replied, eventually loosening her grip if only to get a better look at me. "I was so excited when I got your letter!"

"I can see that," I smiled as I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder. "I'm surprised that you haven't told everybody …"

"Oi, give me some credit," she pouted, "I do know how to keep a secret …"

"Says the one who practically announced to the world that I snogged Charlie last year," I retorted.

Tonks paused, "I … that was different!" she said, "And besides, I didn't tell everybody …"

I rolled my eyes, "You didn't have to come all the way to pick me up," I said, changing the subject.

"Which is exactly why I had to come and pick you up," reasoned Tonks cheerfully as she took my owl cage in one hand while linking her other arm with mine. "What sort of best friend would I be if I didn't come to pick you up after not seeing you for aeons?"  
"It's been two months, Tonks, not aeons." I corrected her.

"Oh; same thing," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. "So … how was Australia?"

"Hot," I said.

She raised an eyebrow, "But isn't it supposed to be winter over there?" she asked.

I shrugged, "Yeah, well their winter is like our summer. Speaking of which, how's Brina been? I hope she hasn't been giving you too much trouble …"

"Oh, she's been fine," replied the witch as we walked out of the atrium. "She's an angel, your cat is – she's kept the house mice-free and everything … Heck, I swear Mum adores her more than me ..."

"Anyway," she continued, "You'll never believe the sort of tent that my Dad and I managed to find …"

* * *

_Soooo ... what did you think? I hope you liked it!_


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Bagman and Crouch**

* * *

"Surprise!"

"Bethany!" Charlie's eyes lit up before tackling me in a strong embrace.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in Australia …" he trailed off as he saw Bill smirk, "_You_ knew about this."

His older brother nodded as he averted his gaze slightly.

"Hey, don't get mad at him," I said, batting his forearm as he made a grab for his brother from over my shoulder, "I made him promise not to say anything because I wanted to surprise you."

"And no offence mate, but your girlfriend is a_ lot _scarier than you _and _your dragons combined," Bill added as he leapt out of Charlie's reach.

Charlie sighed before he wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead, "I'm just glad that you're here. Are you staying for the match?"

"Well, I _did_ manage to snag a seat with you in the Top Box," I hummed, "And Tonks can't wait to try out the new tent that she bought, though I'm sure that she'd be able to vacate it for a few hours if you're interested …"

"Oh really?" Charlie smirked as I trailed a hand down his t-shirt.

"Eh-hem," another Weasley stepped out of the shadows with a loud crack.

"Percy, hey," I smiled.

"Bethany," he said with his typical airiness as he marched towards us, "How quaint it is to see you on this lovely morning."

I raised an eyebrow, "Um it's afternoon, and what's with the strut?"

"You noticed that too huh?" Charlie nodded, "I thought it was just my imagination."

"Or the excess of cauldron bottoms," agreed Bill.

Percy went pink around his ears, "I am _not_ strutting."

"Oh no of _course_ not," I grinned, "You're just walking …"

"With your nose in the air …" supplied Bill.

"And a waddle in your step …" smirked Charlie.

"Like a duck," I finished.

Percy stiffened with the slightest grunt of disapproval as Charlie, Bill and I burst out laughing.

"Well we should be meeting our father just beyond the clearing …" he coughed.

"You're more than welcome to join us," Bill offered kindly, "If you two aren't too busy_ reacquainting_ yourselves that is."

I blushed as he waggled an eyebrow in our direction.

"Well I wouldn't want to intrude," I managed.

"Nonsense, the whole family _loves_ you," Charlie replied reassuringly as he squeezed my hand in his.

"And Dad absolutely dotes on you ever since you got him that Muggle Toast-it," added Bill.

Percy made a humphing sound at the back of his throat as we emerged out of the woods, spotting a flock of redheaded Weasleys crowded around a spluttering campfire.

"Just Apparated Dad," he announced with the pompous air of a peacock grooming its feathers, "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

* * *

Mr Weasley looked up from where he was cooking a pan of fat sausages and eggs over the fire with a broad smile.

"My word, is that you Bethany? Why we haven't seen you since our last trip to Egypt!"

"It's great to see you again Mr Weasley," I beamed as Charlie and I made our way towards them.

"Yeah, long time no see," George grinned.

"Looking gorgeous as always," added Fred with a cheeky wink.

"Alright, knock it off you two," Charlie growled as we settled together on a nearby log beside Bill.

"Bethany's a Cursebreaker for Gringotts," Ron supplied to his friends between mouthfuls of sausages.

"You mean like Bill?" asked Hermione Granger.

"That's right," I nodded.

"Oh she's _much_ more than just that," Bill replied cheerfully as he passed us each a plate of food, "Bethany's the new Head Cursebreaker now."  
"So she's practically Bill's boss," chimed Fred.

"Well I wouldn't say that …" I blushed, as Charlie gave my hand a small squeeze.

We were halfway through our plates of sausages and eggs when Mr Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding towards us.

"Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable wizard by far. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of black and yellow that would have given somebody like Andre Egwu a bad case of vertigo with an enormous picture of a wasp emblazed on his chest. He had the distinct look of a powerfully built man who'd let himself go: the robes stretching so tightly across his large, port belly that it was hard to believe that he'd ever played Quidditch for England. His nose was askew (probably broken by a stray Bludger back in the day) but his round blue eyes, short blonde hair and overall rosy complexion made him look like an overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called in a state of wild excitement, bounding towards us as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet.

"Arthur, old man," he was already puffing slightly by the time he had reached the campfire, "What a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming … and hardly a hiccough in arrangements … not much for me to do!"

Charlie and I exchanged a silent glance as a group of haggard-looking Ministry officials rushed passed, pointing at some sort of magical fire in the near distance that was spitting violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched: apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah yes," said Mr Weasley, grinning, "This is my son, Percy, he's just started at the Ministry – and this is Fred – no, George, sorry – _that's_ Fred – Bill, Charlie, their friend Bethany, Ron – my daughter, Ginny – and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name and his eyes performed the familiar upward flick in the direction of his famous lightning-shaped scar.

"Everyone," Mr Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such great tickets …"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he asked eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large sum of gold in the pockets of his robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first – I offered him nice strong odds considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years – and little Agatha Timmes has put half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

"Oh … go on then," said Mr Weasley after a brief hesitation. "Let's see … a galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed but recovered quickly, "very well, very well … any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," frowned Mr Weasley, "Molly wouldn't like …"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled in all their money, "that Ireland will win – but Victor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr Bagman rubbish like that …" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all: on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred and roared with laughter when it gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'll pay five Galleons for that!"

The rest of us sniggered softly as Percy froze in stunned disapproval.

"Boys," Mr Weasley said under his breath, "I don't want you betting … that's all your savings … your mother …"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum 'll catch the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance … I'll give you excellent odds on that one … we'll add five galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we …"

Mr Weasley looked on helplessly as the wizard whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," grinned George, taking the slip of parchment and tucking it away carefully.

Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr Weasley. "Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty 'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages …"  
"Mr Crouch?" piped Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll …"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Anyone can speak Troll," Fred retorted dismissively, "all you've got to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to boil as Charlie rolled his eyes.

"See what I mean?" he whispered in my ear, "Percy's absolutely bonkers for the man: been harking on about him all summer …"

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr Weasley asked instead as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside him.

"Not a dicky bird," Bagman replied comfortably as he leaned backwards. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha … Memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction: Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking its still July."

Charlie, Bill and I exchanged frowns when he said that.

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh – talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just apparated at the fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, no-nonsense sort of elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit with highly polished shoes and a party in his short grey hair, which was almost unnaturally straight. Mr Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed as a bank manager, and, with his serious demeanour and narrow toothbrush moustache, I could see why Percy (a great believer in rigidly following rules) idolised the man.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No, thank you, Ludo," replied Crouch with a bite of impatience, "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is _that_ what they're after?" said Bagman, "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent …"  
"Mr Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly as he sunk into some sort of weird, hunched-backed bow, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," Mr Crouch blinked, looking over at Percy in mild surprise, "Yes – thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups as Percy, very pink around the ears busied himself with the kettle.

"_Weatherby?"_ I mouthed as Charlie chuckled.

"Oh, and I've been wanting a word with you too Arthur," Mr Crouch added, his sharp eyes falling on Mr Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr Weasley heaved a deep sigh. "I sent him an owl about that last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: carpets are defined as a Muggle Artefact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," Mr Crouch replied as he accepted a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" chortled Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," Crouch explained, "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve – but that was _before_ carpets were banned of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly to the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" asked Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," Mr Crouch replied drily, "Organising Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" asked Mr Weasley politely.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad? Don't know when I've had more fun … still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organise, eh?"

Mr Crouch scowled, "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details …"

"Oh, details!" snorted Bagman, waving his hands energetically, "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids will know soon enough anyway. I mean it's happening at _Hogwarts_ …"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians you know," snapped Mr Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea Weatherby."

He pushed his untouched tea back towards Percy and waited for Ludo to rise: Bagman struggled to his feet again, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold jangling merrily in his pockets.

"See you all later!" he beamed, "You'll be up in the Top Box with me – I'm commentating!" he waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly and both of them disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts Dad?" Fred asked at once.

"You'll find out soon enough," replied Mr Weasley with an enigmatic smile.

"It's classified information until the Ministry decides to release it," Percy added stiffly with his typical air of pretension, "Mr Crouch was quite right not to disclose it …"

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," snapped Fred.

* * *

Bill, Charlie and I were excused to go look for the rest of our friends as the afternoon wore on. A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite. By dusk, the still summer air seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as the darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now erupting everywhere.

"Wotcher, Bethany!" Tonks grinned, tripping over a peg as she finished setting up our tent with the help of Penny who was still trying to decipher the instructions.

"We were wondering where you'd gotten to, though I see you managed to wrangle in our favourite dragon-crazy Weasley and Co hey?"

Charlie flushed slightly, "Just because I've been in Romania, doesn't mean you can torment me, Tonks."

"No, that's _my_ job," Bill agreed, giving his brother's hair an affectionate ruffle.

"Ugh, Bill, get off!" griped Charlie as he tried to bat him away.

Penny giggled, "It's so good to see you all again," she enveloped us into a tight embrace.

"Oi, did you hear?" Tonks interrupted, "Bethany's the new Head-Cursebreaker at Gringotts! Penny and I were just talking about it before …"  
"What? Really?" Tulip appeared behind us, "How did you manage that without her killing you?"

"Just so we're clear, this 'her' we're talking about is Merula, right?" Penny piped before I could respond.

"No, we're talking about _Merlin_. Of course, it's Merula _bloody_ Snyde," snapped Tulip.

"Just because you don't like her doesn't mean Merula's a bad person," Bill countered defensively, only for Tulip's eyes to darken.

"And here we go again," sighed Tonks as Tulip swelled like a bullfrog, "If you need me, I'll be out resupplying the fireworks that I accidentally set off in the tent."

"Wait a minute, you set off _what _in the tent?" asked Penny.

"Look, Merula's been through a lot; that doesn't make her a bad person …"

"Huh, funny," Tulip drawled sarcastically, "I seem to recall you saying the _same_ thing about Rakepick …"

Everybody stiffened.

"Too far Tulip," I murmured.

"Fine," she relented, holding up her hands, "Just to be clear …"  
"Oh I think that you've made your point," Tonks said, reappearing with a crate full of newly purchased fireworks tucked underneath her arm.

"You were literally gone for less than five seconds," stuttered Penny in semi-disbelief, "How did you manage to collect that many fireworks?"  
"An auror's got her ways," Tonks shrugged.  
"And it helps to know a smuggler or two," smirked Jae, apparating with a cart full of different said merchandise, "So what are you all arguing about this time? How awesome my swagger is?"

There were luminous rosettes – green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria – which squealed the names of each player, pointed green hats with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that actually roared, flags from both countries which played their national anthems as they waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that could fly and collectable figurines of famous players, which strolled across the cart preening themselves.

"Wow, check out this scarf Andre!" Penny exclaimed as Andre approached us from a nearby tent along with Barnaby and Diego.

"Mine's still better," he retorted, gesturing proudly to his own purple Pride of Portree's scarf before flashing us a friendly smile. "Nice to see you again Curse-breaker. And do my eyes deceive me or is that Charles dragon-taming Weasley in the flesh no less?"

"As we live and breathe," I nodded.

"Hey Egwu," Charlie grinned as he clapped him on the back, "How's Quidditch?"

"Better than your sense of fashion, that's for sure," Andre shuddered as he pinched Charlie's t-shirt.

"You get more beautiful every time I see you Chicka," Diego hummed.

I rolled my eyes, "Keep your robes on Casanova," I replied, as Charlie placed a protective hand on the small of my back, "And how many times have I told you _not_ to call me that?"

"It's not my fault that you're so beautiful …"

"Careful," warned Penny.

"Yeah, I wouldn't try chatting her up if I were you, mate," Andre agreed, "Charlie here might set a dragon on you."

"Before or after Bethany hexes the crap out of him?" Tonks wondered out loud.

"Either or," Tulip shrugged.

"I like dragons," Barnaby commented randomly, "They're very scaly."

I giggled as Charlie blinked before I tiptoed to kiss the Weasley's cheek.

"Bad luck, mate," Andre smirked as he clapped Diego's shoulder.

"You want a Butterbeer to wash down that rejection?" asked Jae conversationally.

Diego paused for a second before he nodded, "Yeah, why not."

Jae handed him a bottle for two Galleons.

"Anything else?"

Charlie and Bill both bought green rosettes. I got one of the miniature flying Firebolts for Charlie and a green rosette for myself. Tonks couldn't decide whether to turn her hair red or green so she did both, resembling a Christmas tree on steroids. Barnaby bought a dancing shamrock hat ("That way I'll look more like a Bowtruckle," he said) and Diego sportingly agreed to buy a red rosette and matching scarf because he liked a lion to himself as Andre scoured each trolley for something to do with Pride of the Portrees.

In the end, he managed to find a model of himself in Quidditch robes and bought it immediately. He urged Penny to follow suit but much to Andre's dismay she bought a mini figurine of Victor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker instead.

"Why's he always scowling?" Tonks asked as the miniature Krum walked backwards and forwards on Penny's shoulder.

"Probably because he doesn't have an awesome outfit like mine," replied Andre.

Jae left to sell the rest of his merchandise and Penny went to go find her sister while Tulip and Tonks took turns pulling pranks on unsuspecting passer-byes.

We saw brief glimpses of our other friends too: Badeea Ali was painting magical caricatures of people while discussing her peculiar dreams with Talbott Winger ("You have _strange _dreams Badeea," he murmured); Amos Diggory boasting about his son Cedric now in his sixth year at Hogwarts, and Liz Tuttle was trying to advocate for creature rights ("When you think about it, Chimeras are really quite gentle," she insisted.)

* * *

It was only when Tonks accidentally soaked a furious Veela in green ink did Charlie, Bill and I decided it was time to go find the rest of the Weasleys before the match.

It wasn't long until we caught up with them wandering through the flock of salesmen. Ron was sporting a green shamrock hat and matching rosette despite also buying a model of Victor Krum who scowled up at the green rosette above him. Ginny had also bought a green rosette and Mr Weasley was carrying an Irish flag.

"Wow, look at these!" exclaimed Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with brass contraptions.

"Omnioculars," the sales wizard said eagerly, "you can replay action … slow everything down … and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain – ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," Ron groaned, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Three pairs," said Harry firmly to the wizard.

"No – don't bother," muttered Ron going red.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told him, thrusting the Omnioculars into his and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," grinned Ron.

"Ooh, thanks, Harry," beamed Hermione, "And I'll get some programmes, look …"

"I'll buy three as well," I said, handing thirty galleons from my money pouch to the salesman in exchange for three shiny Omnioculars.

"You didn't need to do that," mumbled Bill as I passed one each to him and Charlie.

"You already bought me a miniature Firebolt," Charlie protested.

"Oh just take it already," I replied.

"Fine, then _I'm_ buying the programmes," he insisted.

We eventually made our way back to the Weasley's tents. Everybody but Fred and George had bought something (they'd given Bagman all their gold) so I gave them my pair of Omnioculars instead.

"You two share. I can share with Charlie."

The twins barely had time to react before a deep, booming gong resounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once green and red lanterns blazed to life in the trees, lighting a path towards the pitch.

"It's time!" beamed Mr Weasley, looking as excited as any of us, "Come on, let's go!"

* * *

_The Quidditch World Cup's up next! I tried to keep it as close to the book as possible while adding a few pieces of my own._

_Remember to favourite, follow and review! (Reviews are like Butterbeer ...)  
_

_Love,_

_SwordGold_


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter. I'm just a writer who fell in love with J.K's world._

* * *

**The Quidditch World Cup**

* * *

Clutching our purchases, we all hurried into the woods with Mr Weasley in the lead following the lantern-lit trail. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious as Charlie and I walked through the woods hand-in-hand behind them, grinning and teasing each other until we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium.

Harry gaped at we all stared upwards at the immense gold walls that surrounded the pitch.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr Weasley, spotting Harry's awestruck expression. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle-Repelling charms on every inch of it: every time muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly urgent appointments and had to dash away again … bless them," he added fondly as he led the way towards the nearest entrance.

"Prime seats!" beamed the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked the tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. We clambered upwards with the rest of the crowd which slowly filtered away through different doors into stands to our left and right. Charlie's hand pressed encouragingly against my back as we kept climbing, our legs starting to ache until we finally reached the top of the staircase and found ourselves in a small box set at the highest point of the stadium, situated between the golden goal posts.

"Amazing," Charlie whistled, taking in the scene as we began to file into the front row seats. A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their place in the seats, which rose around the long oval pitch with gigantic blackboards on either side flashing advertisements across the stadium.

_The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family – safe, reliable and with In-built Anti-Burglar Buzzer …_

I tore my eyes away from the sign and turned to look at Charlie who had the most ridiculously large grin on his face. He pulled out our shared Omnioculars and started testing them, peering into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wicked!" he exclaimed, "I can see Tonks and the others. See?"

He nuzzled his chin into my shoulder as he let me have a look.

Sure enough, I could see Tonks wearing a pair of Omnioculars as she waved wildly in our direction. Jae and Penny seemed to be in deep conversation with one another as Andre tried to straighten Barnaby's shamrock hat and Diego was trying to flirt with Tulip.

"Wild!" Ron grinned, twiddling with the replay knob on his own pair. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again … and again … and again."

I rolled my eyes.

Hermione meanwhile was eagerly skimming through her velvet-covered, tasselled programme.

"A display from the team mascots will precede the match," she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth watching," replied Mr Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around us over the next half-an-hour.

Charlie and Bill were now talking enthusiastically about the match to come as Fred and George took turns in pointing out people who were picking their noses in the stands below, ("Looks like he's really digging for gold down there," drawled Fred). Mr Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards, while Percy kept jumping to his feet so often that he looked as though he was trying to sit on a hedgehog.

When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks in Harry's direction, which the Minister greeted like an old friend.

"Oh quit scowling at him will you?" I chastised gently, "Not talking to Fudge isn't the end of the world."

"Though we'll give you extra points for breaking your glasses," snickered George, as Percy went bright red before averting his gaze rather sourly.

"Harry Potter, you know," the Minister spoke loudly as he shook Harry's hand in a fatherly manner and introduced him to the Bulgarian wizards on either side of him. "_Harry Potter_ … oh, come on now, you know who he is … the boy who survived You-Know-Who … you _do_ know who he is …"

The Bulgarian Minister suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," replied Fudge wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages, I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat … good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places … ah, and here's Lucius!"

Our heads all snapped to the side. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr Weasley were none other than Lucius Malfoy.

I felt my insides curl as our eyes met, and it was clear by his expression that he remembered me from the botched Hippogriff trial last fall. Behind him was his wife and son, Draco. Draco Malfoy greatly resembled his father with his pointed face and white-blonde hair and glared at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who, I recalled were in the same year as him at Hogwarts. His mother, Narcissa stood tall and slim in her dark robes. She too had blonde hair and would have looked quite nice if her appearance wasn't spoiled by the expression that she wore that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister for Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblansk – Obalonsk – Mr – well, he's the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else – you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

Tension hung in the air as Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy looked at each other and I vividly recalled Charlie mentioning that the last time they had come face to face they had been trying to punch each other at Flourish and Blotts' bookstore, three years ago. Mr Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over Mr Weasley, and then up and down the row.

"Good Lord, Arthur," he sneered softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched for this much?"

I grabbed Charlie by the forearm as he automatically lurched forward with his wand.

"Don't," I hissed, "It's not worth it."

"Bethany's right," Bill grunted, though anger flashed through his blue eyes as he clenched his fists, looking as if he'd like nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off of Malfoy's face.

Fudge, who hadn't been listening continued, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How – how nice," replied Mr Weasley with a very strained smile.

Mr Malfoy's lip curled as his gaze returned to Hermione who went slightly pink before he met ours sneeringly and continued down the line to his seat.

His son shot Harry, Ron and Hermione one last contemptuous look then settled between his mother and father.

"Oh what I wouldn't do to have that man fed to one of the dragons on my reserve," Charlie muttered through gritted teeth under his breath as we turned away and sat back down.

I was about to respond when Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everybody ready?" he asked, his round face gleaming with barely contained excitement, "Minister – ready to go?"

"Ready when you are Ludo," replied Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directing it at his own throat and said "_Sonorus_!" and then spoke over the roar of the stadium with a booming voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen … Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped, waving their flags in the air, which added their discordant national anthems to the racket. The blackboard opposite wiped itself clean from its last advertisement (_Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – a Risk with Every Mouthful!_) and now showed:

_BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO._

"And without further ado, allow me to introduce … the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"  
The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought? Aaah!" he suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes, "_Veela!_"

Harry frowned, "What are Veel-?"

But Harry's question was quickly answered as a hundred Veela were now gliding out onto the pitch, their white-gold hair fanning behind them and their skin shining moon-bright under the dazzling light.

"Wow!" Fred and George exclaimed in unison, practically leaping out of their seats, and Ron made a sort of gurgling-sigh from the back of his throat.

The Veela began to dance and the majority of male spectators in the audience had gone completely and blissfully blank. I laughed, gently poking Charlie in the side and was immediately rewarded by a brilliant hue of pink as he quickly averted his gaze in a mixture of mortification and confusion.

Fred and George were now preening themselves, looking as though they were contemplating jumping from the box into the stadium as Percy began to sway on his feet. It was only when Fred made a move to jump did Charlie and I manage to quickly tug him back into his seat as Bill held George in a headlock to prevent him from swan-diving.

"Harry, what _are_ you doing?" demanded Hermione once the music had finally stopped.

Harry blinked, standing with one leg resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he was about to perform a swan dive from a springboard.

"They weren't _that_ impressive …" Charlie murmured as the crowd began to erupt angrily. It seemed that they wanted the Veela to continue.

"Sweetheart, you were practically _drooling_ and I'm standing right here," I teased.

Charlie's hand trailed down along my waist as he dropped his voice into a whisper that only I could hear; "You know I only have eyes for you though."

He nibbled gently at my earlobe, causing a slight moan to escape from my lips.

Meanwhile, Ron was busy, absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks off his hat.

Mr Weasley, now smiling leant over and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, still staring open-mouthed at the Veela with a stupefied expression on his face as he watched them line up along one side of the pitch.

"_Honestly_!" Hermione tutted angrily as she pulled Harry backwards from the box edge into his seat.

"And now," roared Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air … for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came shooting into the stadium. It did one circuit of the pitch, before splitting off into two smaller comets; each hurtling towards the goalposts as a rainbow suddenly arced over the stadium, connecting the two balls of light.

The crowd oohed and ahhed as the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged into what formed a giant shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Glittery rain seemed to be falling down from it …

"Excellent!" exclaimed Ron as the shamrock soared over our heads and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off people's seats. Squinting up towards the shamrock, I quickly realised that the shamrock was actually composed of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" grinned Mr Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of who were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"Leprechaun gold," I told the twins who were stuffing handfuls of gold into their pockets "Won't last for more than a day before it disappears."

"There you go," Ron (who hadn't been paying attention) yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand. "For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

The great shamrock dissolved as the leprechauns drifted down onto the pitch on the opposite side from the Veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaand – _Krum_!"

"That's him, that's him!" squealed Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars as Harry quickly focused his own.  
Victor Krum was thin, dark and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked, I thought as Charlie and I trained our shared Omnioculars on the Bulgarian Seeker like an overgrown bird of prey.  
"Hard to believe he's only eighteen." Bill murmured.

"And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaand – _Lynch_!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch as there was a giant roar of applause from the Irish supporters.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

"Isn't that the chap who accidentally nose-dived into the pyramids?" Bill asked as the skinny wizard strode onto the pitch.

"I wouldn't be surprised," I replied.

The referee was completely bald save his massive moustache, wearing robes of gold and a silver whistle protruding under his chin.

He was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm and his broomstick under the other. I spun the speed dial on the Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broom and kicked the crate open – four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (I saw for the briefest of moments before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged, Golden Snitch.

With the sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

* * *

"Theeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Trop! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

Charlie sat at the edge of his seat, completely absorbed by the game – the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to each other that Bagman only had time to say their names.

"TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten-zero to Ireland!"

"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honour around the pitch.

Seemingly furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

I knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. Just as Charlie had said, they worked as a seamless team, appearing to read each other's minds by the way they positioned themselves, and within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero, and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became even faster but more brutal. The Bulgarian Beaters were whacking Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks, dodge the Keeper and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr Weasley, as the Veela started to dance in celebration. I giggled as Charlie and Harry screwed up their eyes too, both wanting to keep their mind solely on the game.

"It's safe to open your eyes now," I nudged Charlie as the Veela stopped dancing and Bulgaria were once again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova – oh, I say!"

One hundred thousand spectators gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from a cliff without parachutes. We all watched their descent with baited breaths, squinting to see where the Snitch was –

"They're going to crash!"

Hermione was half-right – at the very last second, Victor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"Fool!" moaned Mr Weasley. "Krum was feinting!"

"It's a time out!" yelled Bagman. "As a trained medical wizard hurries onto the pitch to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be OK, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny who was hanging over the side of the box looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after of course …" I could hear the grudging approval in his voice.

"Blimey, he doesn't look so good though," noted Bill as he trained his Omnioculars on the injured player who was currently being revived with potions as Krum used the time to search for the Snitch without interference.

Lynch got to his feet, at last, mounting his Firebolt and kicking back off into the air to the sound of loud cheering. His revival seemed to give the Irish new heart. When the whistle blew again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything I had ever witnessed so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by scoring ten more goals, now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, but the game was getting dirtier.

Just as Mullet shot towards the goalposts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, Zograf the Bulgarian Keeper flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over in a matter of seconds but a scream of rage echoed from the Irish crowd, and the long shrill of a whistle blast signalled that it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing – excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And – yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets, were now banding together to form the words, "HA-HA-HA!"

The Veela on the other side leapt to their feet, tossing their hair angrily before they started to dance again.

At once, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers in their ears, and Hermione was soon tugging on Harry's arm as Ginny and I burst into fits of barely contained laughter.

"Look at the referee!" she giggled when Harry pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears. Charlie blinked, following suit as we all looked down at the pitch. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing Veela and was acting very oddly indeed, flexing his muscles and smoothing his moustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he too sounded highly amused. "Somebody, slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the pitch; his fingers stuffed in his ears and kicked the referee hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; we watched through our Omnioculars again to see that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and was now shouting at the Veela who had stopped dancing with rather mutinous expressions.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team Mascots!" exclaimed Bagman. "Now _there's_ something we haven't seen before … oh, this could turn nasty …"

And it did: The Bulgarian Beaters had landed on either side of the referee and were now arguing furiously with him, gesticulating towards the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words: "HEE-HEE-HEE."

Mostafa was clearly not impressed, and when the two refused to get back into the air, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"_Two_ penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms … yes … there they go … and Troy takes the Quaffle …"

The game had now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything that we'd ever seen before. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov, in particular, did not seem to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human, as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"_Foul!_" we all shouted with the Irish supporters who were all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran – deliberately trying to collide there – and it's got to be another penalty – yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, this time forming a giant hand, which made a very rude sign indeed across the pitch, and the Veela lost control. They launched themselves across the pitch and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. They didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders …

"And _that_, boys," yelled Mr Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone."

"True," Charlie agreed, lowering his voice before he added, "Though I'm lucky that I have a girlfriend who's both intelligent _and_ beautiful."

I rolled my eyes, kissing his cheek, "Flattery will get you nowhere, Dragon-Tamer."

"But is it still flattery if it's true?" he asked.

Below us, Ministry wizards were now flooding onto the field to separate the Veela and the leprechauns with very little success while the game continued in the skies.

"Levski – Dimitrov – Moran – Troy – Mullet – Ivanova – Moran again – Moran – MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers from the stadium were nothing compared to the shrieks of the Veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov –

The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger and lodging it as hard as possible towards Krum who did not duck in time before it hit him hard in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken and blood was gushing everywhere but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle: he had become distracted by a Veela who had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

"Time out!" Ron yelled, "Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him …"  
"_Look at Lynch_!" yelled Harry.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and this time it seemed that this was no Feint, but the real thing …

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realised what was happening, the Irish supporters rose in a great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on … but Krum was on his tail. How he could possibly see where he was going I had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now, as the pair of them hurtled towards the ground yet again –

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.

And Harry was right – for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately trampled over by a hoard of angry Veela.

"The Snitch! Where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie.  
"He's got it – Krum's got it – it's all over!" shouted Harry.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood still pouring from his nose, had risen into the air, his fist held high, and a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing across the crowd and the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder as the stadium erupted into screams of delight.

_BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY_

_IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY_

"IRELAND WIN!" shouted Bagman, who, like the Irish, seemed to have been taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WIN – good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" bellowed Ron. "He ended it when Ireland was a hundred and sixty points ahead – the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up," Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly, "the Irish Chasers were too good … he wanted to end it on his terms, that's all …"

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" nodded Hermione who leaned forward to watch Krum land where he and the swarm of mediwizards were blasting a path through the still battling leprechauns and Veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess."

Charlie beamed; looking almost as elated as the time he'd first seen a wild dragon as he took me in his arms and spun us around.

Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the Veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looked dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind us. Charlie and I looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister for Magic.

"You _can_ speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," replied the Bulgarian Minister, shrugging casually.

"And as the Irish team perform a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

A blinding white light suddenly dazzled our eyes, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting towards the entrance, I saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge who still looked very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Bulgaria!" shouted Bagman.

Up the stairs, into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players and I could see that Krum really did look like a mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face and he was still holding the Snitch, though I noticed that he was distinctively less coordinated on the ground (no doubt also suffering a concussion). But still, when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, ear-splitting roar.

Then came in the winners. Moran and Connolly were supporting Aidan Lynch; the second crash seemed to have dazed him, but he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered their approval.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour, Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered "_Quietus_."

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he grumbled hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that … shame it couldn't have lasted longer … ah yes … yes: I owe you … how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

* * *

_How was that for a Quidditch game? I really wished they didn't skip over it in the movies ... _

_Hope you've enjoyed it so far! - S.G. _


	4. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter_

* * *

**The Dark Mark**

* * *

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr Weasley implored to the twins as we all made the long way down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," Fred replied gleefully, "We've got big plans for this money: we don't want it confiscated."

I raised an eyebrow and Mr Weasley opened his mouth as though he was about to ask what these "big plans" were but seemed to decide, upon reflection that he rather not know.

It wasn't long until we were swept up with the rest of the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and spotted the rest of our friends.

Diego seemed rather glum; apparently he'd made a bet with Jae and had lost spectacularly. Tonks and Tulip were taking turns setting off fireworks into the crowd that exploded over our heads in brilliant bursts of green, and Andre was commenting on the Bulgarians' lack of fashion ("I mean when you think about it, red and black is _so_ overdone …" he reasoned).

Leprechauns kept shooting above us, cackling maniacally as they waved brightly green lanterns. Barnaby and Liz were talking enthusiastically about Bowtruckles instead of the game ("Can you imagine what it'll be like if we got Bowtruckles to ride brooms?") and Penny kept reciting lines from the program.

In the distance, we saw a group of pimply wizards trying to chat up some sulking Veela as raucous singing filled the air and Diego leapt to join in.

"Let me show you guys how it's really done," he announced with a proud puff of his chest, as Penny rolled her eyes ("Here we go again," she sighed).

I grinned, linking my arm with Charlie's as we walked through the throng of celebrating people before we eventually reached the tents and it seemed that, along with the noise, all hopes of sleep had been abandoned.

I agreed to stay in for a bit as the Weasleys bantered about the match over one last cup of cocoa.

I sat on the bottom bunk with Charlie, snuggled in his embrace as he and his father began to debate about the legality of cobbing.  
It was only when Ginny fell asleep at the small table and spilt hot chocolate all over the floor did the Weasleys decide to turn in for the night.

"Well, it's getting late," I yawned, "Penny will be having _kittens_ if I don't get back to the others soon."

"We wouldn't want that," Charlie nodded, smiling softly as I kissed him goodnight before disapparating back to my tent where Tonks and Penny were already waiting.

"Um … why is everything covered in green?" I asked.

"Tulip and I went through our whole supply of fireworks," Tonks explained.

"The Irish are sure partying hard tonight," Penny noted, glancing briefly up from her book. It was true; even as we changed into our pyjamas we could still hear singing followed by the occasional odd bang.

"Well I'm just glad that I'm not the one on patrol tonight," replied Tonks as we all crawled into our separate beds. "I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish to stop celebrating."

* * *

We all lay in our beds, chatting about the game when a loud bang shook the tent.

"They should really watch where they lodge those fireworks," Penny muttered crossly after having spilt Pumpkin Juice on her favourite Potions book, but something felt deeply wrong.

"I don't think those were fireworks," I murmured.

"What do you mean they _weren't_ fireworks?" Penny frowned, "What else could they be?"

"Bethany's right," Tonks replied, "I know the sound of fireworks anywhere and those …"

But Tonks never finished explaining what they sounded like because she was cut off by another bone-rattling explosion.

We leapt out of bed, tugging our day-clothes on and grabbing our wands before we rushed outside to be greeted by what could only be described as absolute chaos.

Screams rang through the campsite.

The smell of smoke and burning canvas hung rancid in the air as people shrieked, fleeing from something that was fast approaching across the field towards the campfire, emitting strange bursts of irregular light and sounds like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter and drunken yells were now drifting towards us, illuminated by a strong green light before …

"GET DOWN!" I yelled, tackling Penny and Tonks to the ground, dodging a curse that very nearly skimmed over our heads before striking the tent behind us with a resounding _BANG!_

We hit the grass with a heavy _thwack_, rolling out of the way as the tent burst into flames.

"See?" Tonks coughed, as we untangled ourselves from splinters of the smouldering canvas, "Definitely _not _fireworks."

That's when I saw them: Silver masked wizards dressed in black marching through the flames of the smouldering campsite, levitating humanoid marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air, and my entire body froze.

Penny's eyes widened; her braids dishevelled as Tonks swore.

"Are those? …"

"No," Penny stammered, "It can't be …"

_Death Eaters. _

It was only as the group of tightly packed wizards advanced did I realise with a horrible lurch of my stomach that the four figures being levitated above their heads weren't mannequins like Penny had thought but muggles, struggling with shock frozen expressions as their bodies were contorted into grotesque shapes.

"That's disgusting," the auror muttered under her breath, looking as if she might be sick, "Absolutely disgusting."

"We have to stop them," I replied, nodding to Tonks who had already readied her wand.

"What? Are you crazy?" Penny clutched my forearm as I pushed myself to my feet, "We should be running _away_, not trying to fight them …"

"Penny, there are muggles being tortured! You can't expect me to just stand here and do nothing …"

"But if you stop them, those people will drop sixty feet!" she argued.

The faces of the floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over the burning tent.

"That's Mr Roberts, the campsite manager!" gasped Penny; our argument temporarily forgotten, as she watched his head flop limply to one side. The other three muggles must have been his wife and children. One of the marchers flipped the woman upside-down with his wand; her nightdress falling to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

I saw Bill, Charlie and Percy emerge from one of the Weasleys' tents, all fully dressed with their sleeves rolled up and charged towards the oncoming marchers.  
"We're going to help the Ministry," I heard Mr Weasley shout over all the noise. "You lot – get into the woods, and _stick together_. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

"Bethany, please, we have to get out of here," Penny begged but I could already see the three Weasleys sprinting towards the oncoming marchers with their father in tow and tore after them, leaving Penny behind.

Other Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the ever-growing crowd but were having great difficulty trying to get closer, scared that any spell they performed might make the Roberts family fall.

"Charlie!"

"Bethany!" Charlie tugged me behind him, narrowly dodging a curse that flew over our heads, "Are you OK? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I replied quickly.

Already I could see Tonks battling her way through tents that erupted into flames not so far away.

"Any luck so far?" Tonks yelled over the sound of magic bursting overhead.

"Not much," I replied, whipping up a shield of water that sliced through one of the fires that had come a bit too close to one of the still entrapped muggle children who were being levitated high in the air.

"Every time any of us get close, they threaten to drop them," Charlie explained.

"But there must be something we can do …" Tonks' voice was cut off by another explosion.

That's when something vast, green and glittering erupted into the sky; a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

"No," I croaked.

It rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

We stood there; momentarily stunned as the Dark Mark swirled in the sky above the woods and the Death Eaters disapparated with a deafening crack; their prisoners, no longer held under their enchantment quickly plummeting to the ground at break-neck speed …

"_Arresto Momentum_!" I shouted, immediately stunting the falls of two of the children as Charlie did the same before we rushed to catch them.

"It's alright," I murmured as I gently helped an extremely shaky Mrs Roberts to her feet, "You're safe now."

"My children they …"  
"They're fine," Charlie reassured her after checking the pulse of each child.

It was only until all of the Roberts were hurried off by a group of Obliviators did Charlie and I get to our feet again.

"You're hurt," I noted, running my wand against the nasty cut that had slashed through his t-shirt before I healed it with a simple '_Episkey' _charm

"I'm alright," mumbled Charlie, though his voice was still shaky, "You?"

"Only minor bruising," I replied.

All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards though several ruined tents were still smoking. Charlie and I made our way through the smouldering wreckage of tents that littered the field, all blackened into charcoal.

"What's going on in there?"  
"Who conjured it?" asked a witch fearfully, "It's ... not _him_ is it?"

"Of course it's not him," I sighed impatiently, though my heart was still racing as I began to douse the fires with a steady stream of water from my wand.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Charlie and I had just made our way through extinguishing various fires when I saw a lone figure rummaging through the wreckage. It didn't take me long to recognise who it was, and Charlie nodded as I made my way towards the auror.

"I found this not far from your tent," I said, handing the wizard the leather band, which hung a single swan feather from its clasp. Talbott's eyes widened as he seized the necklace and held it to his chest.

"It was a bit burnt but I tried to fix it …"

"I thought that I'd lost it forever," he whispered, his voice trembling as he got to his feet, "The last memory of my parents …"

"Talbott …"  
"I ran, you know," Talbott mumbled softly, clutching his mother's necklace all the more tightly as he averted his gaze back to where the Dark Mark still swirled above us. "From the moment that I saw them …"

"That's nothing to be ashamed of though," I replied gently.

"Isn't it?" snapped the wizard, "Death Eaters _killed_ my parents: it's the reason why I became an Auror in the first place … and the first opportunity I get to avenge their death I freeze and run away like the pathetic coward that I am …"

"You're not a coward."  
"Yes, I am!"  
"No, Talbott, listen to me." I said, catching him by the singed sleeve of his jacket, "You are _not_ a coward."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly before he shook me off.

"I'll see you around," he murmured, his strained smile not quite reaching his eyes as he slowly transformed back into an eagle.

"I'm holding you to that, Winger."

And, with a semi-salute of his feathered head, the eagle that was Talbott Winger spread his majestic wings before taking to the skies once more.

"You think he'll be alright?" asked Charlie, hugging me from behind once Talbott had all but become a faint speck of brown beyond the horizon.

"I hope so," I replied.

* * *

"Oh thank _Merlin_," Bill said, looking up when he saw us enter the tent from where he was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely.

"You're injured!" Charlie blanched as we hurried towards the older Weasley.

"Nah, just a scrape," Bill winced as I tried to examine the deep incision before reapplying pressure to the wound.

"Well, I can't heal it until it stops bleeding," I murmured, "And I don't have any essence of Dittany with me …"

"Where're the others?" Charlie asked immediately.

"Haven't seen them yet," Bill replied mournfully, "I was about to go out and look but …"

"No, I'll do it." Charlie kissed my cheek before disappearing back out of the tent.

"Did you see the Dark Mark?" Bill asked as I pulled up a chair beside him.

"It was what spooked the Death Eaters away," I nodded.

"Huh, thought so," he murmured, "Ironic that."

"Bet they were more scared of it than we were," I agreed, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice, "Spending most of their time denying they'd ever been involved with _him_ when he was in power to get out of Azkaban."

It wasn't long until Charlie emerged with Percy, Ginny and the twins in tow.

"Thank god," I let out a sigh of relief as I rushed towards them.

Ginny trembled as she crumbled against me and I hugged her tightly.  
"Shh, It's okay," I murmured gently, running a soothing hand over her back as she began to sob, "It'll be alright."

"Have you seen Dad yet?" Percy asked, sporting a bloody nose as he wiped his glasses on his robes.

Bill frowned, "I thought he was with you."

Percy shook his head.

"What about Harry, Ron and Hermione?" asked Fred, looking almost as shaken as Ginny as he exchanged anxious glances with his brothers.

"They'll be okay," said Bill, "Dad 'll find them."

Silence hung in the tent as Ginny bit her lip.

"I'll make some tea then shall I?" I asked eventually.

* * *

The atmosphere was tense as we all sat down, clutching ceramic cups as we waited for the others to arrive. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Charlie went to poke his head out of the tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred, George and Ginny got back OK, but the others …"  
"I've got them here," replied Mr Weasley, bending down before he entered the tent shortly followed by Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Bill was still holding the bedsheet to his arm, and Percy was tilting his head back to stem his bleeding nose as we all gathered around the small kitchen table.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr Weasley, looking weary as he shook his head. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"_What_?" we all said together and I nearly dropped my tea.

"Harry's wand?" said Fred.

"_Mr Crouch's elf_?" echoed Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron and Hermione, Mr Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.  
"Well, Mr Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to … embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry … how would that have looked, if she'd been had up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control …"  
"She didn't do anything!" snapped Hermione before I had the chance to, "She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!"

Percy seemed to look taken aback. It seemed clear that Hermione had always gotten on fairly well with Percy – better, indeed, than any of the others.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" shouted Hermione. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" Ron interrupted impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone … why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," Hermione replied before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," I supplied softly as I sat beside Charlie on the bottom bunk.

"Of course people panicked," added Mr Weasley in a quiet voice. "It was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean … it's still only a shape in the sky …"

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," replied Mr Weasley. "The terror it inspired … you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home, and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside …" Mr Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear … the very worst …"

There was silence for a moment.

Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "What are Death Eaters?"  
"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," I explained, getting up to heal Bill's arm.

"I think we saw what's left of them tonight," Bill replied darkly, "The ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters …" Harry began.

Everybody flinched.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "What were _You-Know-Who_'s supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" exclaimed Mr Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun." There was a fit of definite anger in his voice as he spoke, "I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large."

"A nice little reunion for them," I finished disgustedly, fixing Percy's nose before sinking back to the bed with Charlie.

"But if they _were_ the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" asked Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," Bill retorted as he tested his newly healed muscles. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked really hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers and went back to their daily lives … I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So … whoever conjured the Dark Mark …" said Hermione slowly, "Were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," Mr Weasley sighed. "But I'll tell you this … it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now … Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours' sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

"I should probably get back to check in on the others, then," I said as Harry and the others got back into their bunks, "Penny 'll still be mad that I left her out on her own."

"Alright, I'll walk you," Charlie offered as he helped me to my feet.

"What a gentleman," I smiled, "Night everyone."

* * *

"Wotcher, Bethany, Charlie," Tonks grinned as she emerged out of our shared tent to greet us, "Penny's _spitting_ mad by the way. It's bloody scary."

"Thought so," I sighed, as I went on my tiptoes to give Charlie a quick peck on the lips, "I'll see you in a few weeks, alright?"

He nodded, burying his face into my hair before he eventually let me go and disappeared back off into the night.

"Cosy that," Tonks smirked as she let me inside.

"Oh _extremely_," I replied.

"WHERE _HAVE _YOU BEEN?" Penny shouted angrily, her nostrils flaring uncharacteristically with the air of a charging bull. "We've been worried _sick_! I thought you were dead!"

"I was with Charlie," I replied gently.

I could practically hear her thoughts screaming at me as she averted her gaze.

"Penny I …"  
"You left me," Penny whispered, "You left me _alone_ in the woods while you ran into the crossfire _without_ backup!" her shoulders shook as she clenched her fist around her wand, "And then I saw the Dark Mark, and I was _so _scared that I'd lost my best friend and was never going to see you again …" her voice suddenly broke off and I rushed forward to wrap her in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," I murmured, "I really am."

"I know." Penny whimpered, dabbing her eyes behind her glasses with the corner of her nightgown, as we broke apart, "I guess I kind of freaked out when I saw the Mark and Bea wasn't with me …"

"Well it was certainly quite a way to end the day," Tonks agreed before promptly tripping over herself.

_What a way indeed,_ I thought.

* * *

_Well, that was all rather dramatic, wasn't it? With Death Eaters out in the open and the public in disarray, what will happen next? Find out in the next chapter ...  
_


	5. Chapter 4

_Hi! _

_Sorry about the previous mishap (I swear to Merlin that I must have been half asleep while uploading it before) but it's fixed now so you can continue enjoying the story!_

Author's Note: I've probably written this note thousands of times now but some things have changed in Hogwarts Mystery thus the reason why I have to update my stories to sit properly with canon.

_Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter._

* * *

**Scones and the Aftermath**

* * *

It's funny how one can sleep so soundly only mere hours after such a life-threatening scenario.

Penny, Tonks and I took turns repairing the very few tents that were salvageable from the wreckage and brewing Wiggenweld potions to attend to minor injuries. This all went relatively smoothly, apart from a few hiccups in the form of Mundungus Fletcher who insisted on being compensated with a two-storey mansion despite not even coming with a tent in the first place. Tonks was probably the first one to hit the bed, no doubt mentally and emotionally drained from the ordeal, shortly followed by Penny who was so tired that she was cauldron stirring in her sleep. Tulip's tent had unfortunately been amongst the thousands of damaged gazebos so she and her pet Dennis bunked in with Tonks who managed to use an _Engorgio_ spell to triple the size of her mattress. Penny also insisted on sharing her bed with Beatrice whose friends had already disapparated from the campsite. It was nice to see the two sisters getting along again, though I had my doubts that Beatrice would willingly stay the whole night. They might have been on speaking terms now but their relationship was nowhere near as close as it had been. It seemed that Beatrice's experience with the Portrait Curse had left an impression on her, one that even after all these years she couldn't quite get over. Penny had suggested that Beatrice go to counselling but the witch had refused. I glanced over them now sleeping peacefully side-by-side, relieved that, for now at least Beatrice was too tired to go anywhere else.

Because of the newly added mattresses actually getting to the bed was more like walking through a maze of sleeping people.

I sighed, stretching out my sore muscles as I tiptoed my way over the mattresses before I promptly sank into my bed. Even if I only managed to get a short kip in before sunrise, I knew that I'd be sleeping like the dead.

* * *

_The following morning ..._

* * *

I smiled, waking up to the fleeting touch of Charlie's lips brushing against my forehead. Sunshine poured through the open flap of the tent as I opened my eyes.

"Leaving so soon?" I asked, noticing that he was already fully dressed as I tugged him back towards the bed to sit down before climbing onto his lap.

"Unfortunately," he nodded, still bleary-eyed from last night's incident, "Just wanted to see you one last time before we head off."

"How romantic of you," I hummed, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before brushing a few mused strands of orange curls out of his face.

We melted together, my hips straddling his as his hands continued to roam my body as I guided them beneath the fabric of my tank top. It was only when we heard Bill call out Charlie's name did we stop.

Charlie sighed, silently cursing as he rested his forehead against mine.

"To be continued then?" I suggested softly.

He nodded, "Definitely."

Charlie gave me one last lingering kiss before we reluctantly untangled ourselves from each other, Tonks' snoring still whistling in the background as he walked away, turning only to give me one last smile.

Well, at least I had something to look forward to now, I thought to myself as I watched him leave.

* * *

Penny was the next person to wake up, stumbling bleary-eyed out of bed as she rummaged through her trunk where she kept an assortment of different potion ingredients. She yawned, picking out her collapsible cauldron and a handful of vials before making her way outside, no doubt to continue brewing more potions for the morning rush.

I yawned, shrugging my jacket on over my crumpled clothes before I went out to join her.

"Morning."

"Morning!" she chirped somewhat forcibly as if she were hoping she'd wake up more at the sound of her own voice.

"Sleep well?" I asked, sitting on a nearby log as I watched her stoke the fire beneath her cauldron.

"Relatively," she replied, still bleary-eyed as she gave the bubbling mixture another half-stir, "Could you pass me the Boom Berry juice?"

I did as I was told, carefully squeezing the Boom Berries into a cantina and passed it to her, before I started slicing the Mandrake in preparation for stewing. Stewed Mandrake normally wasn't a part of the standard Wiggenweld potion recipe but Penny had found through her experimentation that it added certain potency to its healing properties.

"The Weasleys already leave?" she asked somewhat conversationally.

"Uh-huh," I nodded as I began stewing the Mandrake over the fire in a separate container. Usually, one would stew a Mandrake whole but seeing as we were short on cauldrons I had resorted to poaching them in segments instead.

"Oh, don't worry, you two aren't the ones who woke me up."

Penny's voice had returned to her usual liveliness as she waggled an eyebrow in my direction. I blushed, ducking my head as I returned my attention back to adding a pint of salamander's blood to the stewed Mandrake before adding it to the concoction while Penny kept an eye on the temperature.

"Normally I'd crush the lionfish spines before adding them but I seemed to have lost my mortar and pestle," explained Penny as she selected five lionfish spines from her collection before stirring it into the mixture. "Hopefully the stewed Mandrake should be able to balance it out."

"Is Bea alright?" I asked.

Penny hesitated ever so slightly, "She's … struggling a bit," she admitted, lowering her voice as if she feared somebody might overhear us. "When she saw those muggles trapped mid-air … it brought back memories of when Bea was still trapped in that portrait," she shook her head, unable to continue as the potion turned yellow.

I nodded quietly. It was understandable of course. What Bea had experienced being under the Portrait Curse had been traumatising on a number of levels. I handed Penny another five lionfish spines before picking out a container of Flobberworm mucus that she added, turning the potion purple.

We sat in silence, the cauldron bubbling as we took turns between stirring and adding salamander's blood until the potion finally turned green.

Penny took it off the heat; ladling spoonfuls into separate vials before bottling them up.

"I'd normally start brewing a Draught of Peace next but I seemed to have run out of powder moonstone …" frowned Penny.

"Don't worry," I replied, "I bet that if anybody can provide us with our missing ingredients it would be Jae. Heck, I could probably even get you another mortar and pestle …"

It didn't take me long to locate the dealer who, as expected was outside selling various charms and trinkets to paranoid wizards.

"This Narglecide is the best that money can buy," he insisted, handing a bottle of mysteriously looking purple liquid to a skirt-wearing wizard, who, upon deeming the product satisfactory gave him thirty sickles in return.

"Jae Kim," I frowned, hands on my hips as I rounded up behind him, "You wouldn't happen to be selling fake potions now would you?"

Jae jumped, eyes widening when he saw me before he rubbed the back of his neck somewhat bashfully. "Oh, you saw that? Well, it's not like Nargles actually exist anyway so as far as I'm concerned there's nothing wrong with selling a few fake potions here and there …"

I crossed my arms, "Jae …"

"What? A wizard gotta eat doesn't he?"

I rolled my eyes, "You really are something else, but luckily I'm in need of a few ingredients that I know for a fact are currently in your possession …"

* * *

"Here we go," I smiled, placing the items on our makeshift table for Penny to see. "Powdered moonstone, syrup of Hellebore, powdered Unicorn horn, Porcupine quills, oh and a brand new stone mortar and pestle."

Penny's eyes widened, "You were only gone for five minutes. How did you manage to find all of this?"

"I got them all for a very reasonable price," I added, "Free of charge, as long as I agree not to report Jae to the Ministry for selling fake Narglecide."

Penny shook her head, "Sometimes I really do wonder about that guy," she murmured before she began adding the powdered moonstone to her already bubbling cauldron in pinches between stirs.

* * *

The rest of the morning went considerably smoothly in light of last night's events. The others soon woke up one-by-one, all equally sleep-deprived as they came out from the tent, squinting under the morning sun.

I went out to administer different potions, from Wiggenweld Potions to Calming Draughts; the first in which we gave to a still very bewildered looking Ludo Bagman. Chiara who had apparently spent the entire night tending to various injuries soon joined us back at the tent looking particularly tired.  
Penny handed her a wide-eye potion, which she gratefully added to her coffee as the rest of us all gathered around what was left of the campsite.

"Well, you can bet that the Daily Prophet's going to have a field day on this," murmured Liz as she straightened her glasses.

"I'm just glad that there weren't too many serious injuries," replied Chiara.

"I'm just glad that none of _us_ was injured," Penny yawned, her plaits uncharacteristically dishevelled and slept-in as she finished scrubbing out her cauldron. We all muttered in agreement, huddling around the dwindling campfire as the rest of us used magic to finish packing away the tents.

"Well I'm just happy that I managed to save my broom," Skye added, leaning on her said Firebolt as Murphy McNully soon wheeled in with Orion Amari in-tow.

"Out of all the possible statistics that I calculated I definitely didn't count on our celebrations being cut off by Death Eaters."

"Sometimes our paths are clouded by unexpected Bludgers," nodded Orion.

Skye Parkin raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure that your head hasn't been clouded by an unexpected Bludger?" she quipped.

"I still can't believe that those dickheads burnt my designer tent though," Andre complained, shaking his head as he booted over the burnt flaps of mulberry coloured canvas with his shoe.

"Be glad that they didn't burn _you_," Tonks pointed out, still considerably bleary-eyed from a lack of sleep. "Speaking of which, where the Weasleys?"  
"They left for the Burrow via Portkey first thing this morning," I replied.

Diego seemed to be about to ask exactly how I knew this but was silenced by a strong kick from the Quidditch player.

"Ah, well I suppose the early bird catches the worm," he said instead.

"What does that even mean?" frowned Beatrice as she sipped tea from her thermos.

"It means," Tonks translated, "That Diego here is already _pissed_, and I seriously need a pick me up if I'm ever gonna live through the amount of paperwork waiting for me at work."

"For your information, I am not _pissed_, Signorina," retorted Diego as Penny handed the auror another spare Wide-eye potion. "It is _you_ who is the one that is 'pissed' …"

"Righto then, wish me luck." Tonks yawned, uncorking the vial and downing its contents in one go. She sighed, making a clumsy salute as she ran her other hand through her bubble-gum pink hair before disapparating on the spot.

"Well, I suppose that's our cue to leave before my parents send out _another_ warrant for my arrest," mumbled Tulip, picking up her pet toad Dennis before she too vanished with a sharp crack.

Beatrice raised an eyebrow, "She was joking … right?"

"Hard to say really," Andre shrugged.

"Tulip, is like a river, as unpredictable as she is fast-paced," said Orion.

Beatrice cocked her head to the side, "Um … I don't think that I follow …"

"Don't worry," replied Skye, clapping her on the back, "When it comes to Orion nobody can follow what goes through that odd little brain of his …"

"Not all of us can be as straight-forward and stubborn as you, Skye Parkin."

"At least being straight-forward and stubborn is something I can get behind …"

"What about a quick Quidditch game, you know, for old time's sake?" suggested Andre.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, "_Now_?"

"Smashing!" grinned Skye, "Let's do it!"

* * *

A short Quidditch friendly later we were all packed up and ready to go.

"Oh look, honey, what a pretty birdie," Mrs Roberts remarked as she pointed to Skye who was still soaring above the cottage.  
"Skye! Get down from there!" hissed Murphy, "What part of the Statute of Secrecy do you _not _understand?"

"Oh, keep your robes on McNully," snorted Skye as she landed smoothly beside him. "Their brains are probably too fried to remember any of this …"

"Still, maybe don't go flying around their house?" I suggested, "I doubt that their brains can handle another Oblivating after what they've been through …"

We all smiled as we passed Mr Roberts at the door of his cottage. He had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved us off with a vague "Merry Christmas."  
"He'll be alright," Penny assured Beatrice quietly as we marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes them a bit … disorientated for a while … and that was a big thing that they had to make him forget."

Beatrice nodded, gulping as she glanced back at the Roberts family who was now taking turns in trying to water their balcony with tea.

We heard urgent voices as we approached the spot where the Portkeys lay and when we reached it, we found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all still clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. The majority of Portkeys had already gone; no doubt, much like the Weasleys people had left as soon as it was viably possible.

"Everybody please, if you would just wait in line," repeated the keeper, using his handkerchief to dab at his sweating forehead, "We'll try and get you out as soon as possible …"

Penny, Beatrice, Skye and I soon joined the queue and were eventually able to take a deflated football back to Birmingham with Andre before midday while the others took an old boot to Diagon Alley.

We arrived in a lane off the bustling main-street, our backs aching from carrying our luggage as we followed the Quidditch player back to his apartment.

Andre lived near the 'Gun Quarter', a region of the city, which had been for many years the centre of the muggle world's gun-manufacturing industry ("They're sort of like metal wands that muggles use to kill people with," he explained to Beatrice as we walked down Shadwell Street.)

Many of the buildings between Shadwell and Vesey Street seemed disused, but upon a closer look turned out to be the mask of some cleverly crafted disillusionment charms. Andre took out his wand, tapping a nearby brick patchwork before it turned into an archway that opened out into what was actually a complex of wizarding shops and residencies including even a Quidditch stadium, all hidden from the surrounding muggle world.

"This is smashing!" grinned Skye as Andre led us down the cheerful cobblestone street before we reached his apartment where we took turns making our way to Penny's via Floo.

* * *

"Blimey!" Penny's dad dropped his coffee as I came whooshing out of his fireplace. "Who the _bloody hell_, are you?"

"Sorry, Mr Haywood," I apologised, repairing the broken mug as I stepped into the living room. "I'm friends with Penny."  
"She and Beatrice should be coming out next," I added as I dusted off my robes.

"I … R-right, Penny's friends." Mr Haywood stammered, wiping his brow as I handed him back his coffee. "Is that them?" called an anxious voice from the kitchen just as Penny and Beatrice arrived.

"Oh, thank _Merlin_ you two are okay!" Mrs Haywood exclaimed as she rushed to embrace her daughters. "I was just listening to the WWN. I was so worried when I heard about the Death Eater attack …"

"Attack?" Mr Haywood spluttered on his coffee again, "You were attacked?"

"Not directly," Penny reassured as she hugged her father. "Oh, right, Mum, Dad, these are my friends: Bethany …"

Skye came shooting out of the fireplace like a comet ("Ah, good old Wigtown," she breathed.)

"Oh, and Skye Parkin."

Mrs Haywood's eyes rounded, "Skye Parkin? As in Quidditch team Wigtown Wanderers' Skye Parkin?"

"That's me!" grinned Skye, reaching out to shake the witch's hand, "Smashing to finally meet you, Mrs Haywood."

Penny's mother looked as if she momentarily forgot how to speak while she shook hands with the famous Parkin.

"Bethany, so you must have been the one that saved my daughter from the Painting thingy …"

"The Portrait Curse, Dad," Beatrice corrected her father with a roll of her eyes.

"Well, it's wonderful to finally meet you all," he beamed, his previous fright seemingly forgotten as he shook our hands.

"You're all welcome to stay for tea," Mrs Haywood offered kindly.

"That's awfully nice of you, but I should be heading home myself," replied Skye, mounting her broom before she zoomed out of the open door.

"How about you then?" Penny's mother asked, looking at us expectantly, "I have freshly baked scones with jam and whipped cream …"

* * *

_So ... Tea anybody? - S.G. _


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Hogwarts Mystery has changed therefore this story had to change along with it ...

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Daily Prophet._

* * *

**Mayhem at the Ministry**

* * *

After a very filling afternoon tea, I bid farewell to the Haywoods before apparating to Tonks' parents' house.

"Oh, thank goodness!"

Tonks' mother, who had evidently been waiting for me in the front yard, came running towards me, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale with a screwed-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. "Oh, Bethany – Dora sent me an owl from the Ministry saying that I should be expecting you. I've been so worried – so worried …"

She flung her arms around us, giving us both bone-crushing hugs as the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, I saw the headlines: _SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_, all complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"Your daughter isn't here Mrs Tonks?" I frowned as I extracted myself from the witch's motherly embrace to pick up the crumpled newspaper.

"Oh call me Andromeda, dearie," Tonks' mother smiled kindly, "And no, she's still at the office I believe …"

The witch bit her lower lip as she cast another anxious glance outside before she ushered me into the house.

* * *

It wasn't long until Tonks came through the door, looking well beyond exhausted as she kicked off her boots.

"You're alive!" her mother exclaimed dropping her tray of biscuits as she seized her daughter into such a tight hug that Tonks almost knocked her head against the bannister. "Oh, Nymphadora!"

"Ouch! Mum – you're strangling me! And _don't_ call me _Nymphadora_!"

"We got into that argument about your piercings before you left!" wailed her mother as she started to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you looked like a hippie! Oh, Dora …"

"Come on, now, Andy, she's perfectly OK," Tonks' father came down the stairs, delicately prising her hands off his daughter and leading her back towards the kitchen. "Good to see you home, Sweetie," he added in an undertone.

"Thanks, Dad," Tonks grinned before she turned to face us, "Wotcher guys!"

"Hey! Thanks for minding Brina and letting us stay for the week," I replied as we embraced. As if hearing her name, my cat padded her way into the living room, looking very satisfied with a small ball of yarn in her mouth.

"No prob," the auror said, "Mum loves cats and ... wait, is that the Daily Prophet? Hey, Bethany, do you think you could pass it over? I want to see what it says …"

We all sat in the living room as Tonks' mother made her a tea and I handed her the newspaper. Tonks scanned the front page while I looked over her shoulder.

"I knew it," she said heavily. "_Ministry blunders … culprits not apprehended … lax security … Dark wizards running unchecked … national disgrace? _Who wrote this rubbish? Ah … of course …"

We read the byline to see that it had of course been written by the one and only Rita Skeeter.

"I'm gonna need something stronger than tea if I'm gonna get through this garbage," Tonks muttered, "Dad?"

"Glass or bottle?" he asked.

"Bottle," she said.

"At the top of the pantry," her father replied, poking his head out from the kitchen, "Just don't let your mum see."

"You're the best!" Tonks kissed her dad on the cheek before she came back into the living room with a large bottle of Firewhiskey in hand.

"Look here, it says that there're rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods … well, there'll certainly be rumours now she's printed that." I shook my head, handing the bottle back to Tonks as she took another swing of alcohol.  
"Funny, I don't remember removing any bodies from the woods," she drawled, "Do you?"

"Can't say I do," I replied, smiling slightly despite myself, "I can see why you were in the office for so long."

Brina meowed as she pawed her way up onto the couch.

"It's been an absolute uproar," Tonks agreed, as her hair turned indigo. "Us Aurors will be putting fires out for the rest of the week – and not just the figurative ones either." She tossed her head back against the couch, "I'm just glad that I'm not in the other departments: they're already receiving Howlers."

"Blimey," her father said, running a hand through his hair as his daughter pushed the paper away. "Talk about mayhem …"

"You know what? I reckon that would be a great name for a rock song – Talk about _mayhem_ …"

I couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

True to her word, Tonks was rarely at home much over the following week. She left the house each morning before the rest of us got up and returned well after dinner every night.

We visited the Burrow once or twice where Charlie and I would spend pockets of time alone together when we weren't being dragged into playing a game of Quidditch with his siblings.

It was during one of these rare moments where Charlie and I were sitting in the backyard under the shade of a tree that blocked us from the view of the house that I felt a question lingering at the forefront of his mind.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Charlie blinked, "What are you talking about?"

I rolled my eyes, "Charlie, I'm a Legilimens. Give me a little more credit …"

He sighed, tracing absent-minded circles under the hem of my dress as he averted his gaze.

"It's just that Dad hasn't gone to work like this since the days of You-Know-Who …"

"I know," I replied, "Tonks, mentioned that it's been absolute chaos in the Aurors' Department. And I don't even want to _think_ about the sorts of files I'll be receiving once I go back to Gringotts …"

"That's right, you're Head-Cursebreaker now," I could feel him smiling slightly against my skin as he spoke. "Should I call you Madam Cursebreaker then?"

I rolled my eyes.

"If you want," I shrugged, leaning back into his embrace as he pressed another kiss against my collarbone. "That doesn't … scare you … does it?"

Charlie pursed his lips, "Well, if I'm, to be honest, it _is_ a little bit intimidating, dating somebody who could very easily smite my arse."

"That's right," I giggled, turning in his arms as I poked his chest. "And don't you dare forget it."

Charlie smirked, his eyes dancing in the afternoon sun as he leaned in for another kiss …

"Oi, Charlie!" yelled Ron, "Get your arse over here! Harry wants to play another game of Quidditch!"

Charlie let out a groan, "Never have I ever been so unmotivated to play Quidditch before," he grunted.

* * *

"It's been a _nightmare_," Tonks told us on a rare Sunday evening at her house where everybody (save Bill and Charlie) could get together for dinner. "I've had to restrain three bozos who attacked a bunch of officials, demanding compensation for their ruined property, and don't even get me started on the Howlers …"

"What are they sending Howlers for?" asked Beatrice, who was resewing a stuffed toy Puffskein for my cat.

"Complaining about the security at the World Cup probably," Andre deduced as he cut into his steak.

"Charlie says that his Dad hasn't had to go into work on weekends since the days of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," I nodded.

"Well, what Skeeter's been writing certainly hasn't been helping," Penny added, sharing a scowl with the rest of us at the mention of the dreaded reporter's name.

"She never makes anyone look good though," I pointed out. "Remember when she interviewed Bill and I along with the rest of Gringotts' Cursebreakers? She called me an 'unhinged nitty' and Bill a …"

"Long-haired pillock!" Andre finished, crossing his arms as if the comment had insulted him directly, "Despite the fact that he has absolutely _gorgeous_ hair …"

"My point being," I continued, "is, that Rita Skeeter would be ferreting around regardless of what's been happening at the Ministry."  
I grimaced; talking about Rita Skeeter always left a bad taste in my mouth.

"Well, the amount of Calming Draughts that we've been administering has tripled this week alone," Penny chimed conversationally, "Some patients keep claiming to see You-Know-Who peeking out of their cupboard doors."  
"Have they checked whether they're just Boggarts?" I asked. I knew that my Boggart was Lord Voldemort.

"No, they're too shell-shocked," she replied, shaking her head as she magically sent the dishes off to wash.

"What about Alastor Moody?" Andre asked instead, "Is it true that he set a bunch of dustbins on his muggle neighbours?"

"I wish I could say that I'm surprised, but honestly, when it comes to Mad-Eye, nothing fazes me anymore," replied Tonks between mouthfuls of potato before accidentally sticking her elbow into the gravy dish, ("Oh Merlin's beard, not again!" she moaned).

"Is it true that he's coming out of retirement to fill in as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts?" Beatrice added.

"Apparently so," Penny nodded.

"That's if he doesn't scare off all his students," Tonks added, "Or attack them … or both."

"True," I nodded. I remembered Alastor Moody only too well from my last years at Hogwarts.

"Well, if the rumours are true, I think that it's safe to say that it will be a very interesting year at Hogwarts," said Penny.

If only we'd realised how much so.

* * *

_A few months later ..._

* * *

It was a rare day that we could hang out with mates as Andre, Bill, Charlie and I all met up at the Leaky Cauldron.

"_What_ are you wearing?" Andre recoiled.

"Um, my balaclava?"  
"Is _that _what it's supposed to be?" the Quidditch player pulled a face, "It looks like an old sack!"

"Hey! For your information, this happens to be fireproof _and_ it keeps my neck warm."

"That doesn't change the fact that it still looks hideous …"

Bill chortled on his Butterbeer as Charlie's cheeks flushed red.

"Oi, be nice!" I chided Andre as I took another sip of Butterbeer.

"Yeah," hummed Bill, "Not everybody can be as fashionable as Andre Egwu: Style Wizard."

I went to hit him but he dodged it – knocking our Butterbeers off the table.  
"_Now_ look what you've made me do," said the Weasley, gesturing accusingly towards our fallen tankards.

"So how's Quidditch been?" Charlie asked, strategically changing the subject.

Andre's eyes immediately lit up, "It's been great! We've already started training for our next season …"

The conversation thereafter consisted of Andre recounting his Quidditch practices in animated detail.

"And you should have seen Kowalski's feint. It was almost as impressive as Krum's …"

I smiled, leaning on Charlie's shoulder as the two talked fervently about Ireland's win at the Quidditch World Cup while Bill went to order us all refills.

It was at that moment that an owl swooped through one of the tavern's open windows; spooking the waitress as it landed on the table in front of me with a letter embossed with the crimson wax seal of Hogwarts' school emblem. Charlie and Andre immediately fell silent, their breaths bated as they watched me unfold the piece of parchment …

"That's odd," I frowned.

"What's odd?" asked Bill, reappearing with four more tankards of Butterbeer.

"Bethany got a letter from Hogwarts," Charlie explained.

"Normally when you get a letter it means that one of your children have been misbehaving," Bill frowned, "But you haven't got any …"

"None that we're aware of anyway," teased Andre.

I rolled my eyes, pursing my lips as I read the letter twice over.

"So," Bill continued, "What's it say?"  
"Dumbledore wants to see me about something that we talked over earlier. Says it's important."  
Andre blinked, "And what exactly have you been up to with Albus Dumbledore?"  
"I'm afraid that's confidential," I replied.  
"Confidential? Bah," Andre grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, "Nobody tells me anything anymore."  
"You're going to have to go now aren't you?" Charlie deduced.

I sighed, "Unfortunately."

"That's alright, I should probably be heading off to Romania anyway."

"I really wish I could stay …"  
"Hey, don't worry about it." Charlie smiled, pressing a comforting kiss to my forehead.  
"Urgh, you guys are so disgustingly cute," Andre puckered  
"It's like Crup-puppy-love isn't it?" Bill agreed.

"Cruppy-love."  
"More like _Dragon_-love."

"Ha-ha very funny," I replied as Charlie rolled his eyes, "Owl me when you get home?"  
"Course," the dragon keeper promised, kissing me softly, "Take care alright?"  
"Only if you do," I smiled, pressing one last lingering kiss to his lips before I reluctantly untangled myself from his embrace and got up.

"See? Cruppy-love."

* * *

"So there's truly nothing that can be done?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Nothing," I replied solemnly as I levitated the extinguished Goblet of Fire back to its pedestal with my wand, "I'm sorry, but it's a magical contract that can't be broken. Not by me at least."

"I see," Dumbledore inclined his head with a quiet sigh. "Thank you for taking the time to try, Madam Cursebreaker."

"Of course Professor," I replied, bowing slightly before allowing the Goblet to settle back down on its marble pedestal.

"Yes, thank you," Professor McGonagall mumbled, her face creased with anxiety as she gazed back towards the Goblet of Fire then towards the Headmaster as I left.

"Oh, Albus," I heard her murmur, "What are we going to do now?"

* * *

"Just came back from Hogwarts," I replied as I sank into the nearest recliner at the bar.

"And I'm guessing by the look on your face that things didn't go too well?" Bill deduced.

I nodded, taking my hair out from its bun before running my fingers through its tangles.

"The traces left behind show that it took an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to trick the Goblet into thinking that there were four schools competing instead of three."

"Well Mum's already going bonkers about it," replied Bill as he finished his last Pumpkin Pasty, "keeps harassing me with owls."

"Charlie?"  
"Already gone."

"Like from the moment that you left … the git, …"  
"Thought so."

Bill nodded, "Speaking of which, I figured that you and Charlie would like to spend a bit more time together so I swapped roles with you on the big shipping day."

I raised an eyebrow, "And how_ exactly _did you manage to do that?"

"Well," Bill rubbed his neck, "I _might_ have forged a few of your signatures and …"

"You _what_?"  
"Whelp," hummed Andre, "_that_ would be my cue to leave. See ya!"

* * *

_So I know I skipped a few months but I really wanted to get into the interesting stuff. You'll see what I mean later. _

_Don't forget to favourite, follow and review! (Reviews are better than any bottle of Firewhiskey) _

_Yours truly,_

_Sword Gold._


	7. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter. All credits go to J.K Rowling who is and will always be my queen ..._

* * *

**Dragons and an Unexpected Visitor**

* * *

"Shoes off please, Miss," Swetty chirped as I stepped out of the fireplace as Brina wrapped herself around my legs.

"Aw, I missed you guys too," I smiled, reaching down to give her a scratch behind the ear before I took off my shoes and levitated them over to the front door. "Is Mum back from America yet?"  
"No, Miss," the house-elf shook her head.

I sighed. I might not have always gotten on smoothly with my Mum but it still would've been nice for her to let me know when she'd be coming back at least.

I took in a deep breath, momentarily tearing myself away from those thoughts as I gazed around the lavishly immaculate lounge room and shivered slightly.

The house had always felt so empty after Jacob passed.

"Would Miss like some stew for dinner tonight?" Swetty asked, bringing me back to reality as she stared up at me expectantly. Brina rubbed her cheek against my ankle, her whiskers tickling my skin as she cocked her head to the side.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah … that sounds fine," I replied, picking up my black cat as Swetty hurried off to prepare dinner.

"Looks like it'll just be the two of us tonight then, huh?"  
Brina purred.

* * *

I was about to blow out the candles when I saw a large shadow swoop through the skies before it landed on the street in front of my house.

_Bloody hell._

I pulled on my dressing gown as I scrambled down the stairs and out the door where a hippogriff was now grazing at the grass of my front lawn.

"Merlin's _pants_ Sirius!" I hissed, wrapping my dressing gown over my shoulders as I stepped outside into the cold, "Some warning would be nice."

"But where's the fun in that?" he hummed as he slid down Buckbeak's side and landed gracefully on his feet. The Hippogriff crooned, shaking out his white feathers before nudging his giant head against my shoulder.

"There's not supposed to be any 'fun' in it," I retorted as I ran my fingers through Buckbeak's plumage, "Or need I remind you that you are currently a _wanted man_, flying on the back of a _wanted hippogriff_? Thank Merlin, my mum's still in America visiting relatives otherwise she would have _seen_ you!" I shook my head, "You're mental. You know that?"

Buckbeak let out another squawk.

"See? Even the Hippogriff agrees with me!"

"Pah, you worry too much," replied the wizard as he patted my shoulder.

"Well _sorry_ for not wanting you to have your soul sucked out by Dementors," I drawled sardonically before reluctantly returning the embrace, "But really, what in the name of Merlin's pants are you doing here?"

Sirius' expression dimmed ever so slightly.

"I think that Harry might be in danger."

* * *

I sidled up to the Weasley, Sirius' words still ringing in my ears from the night before as I watched him finish resecuring the cages onto their wagons, going up on my tiptoes to cover his eyes with both hands.

"Guess who?"

Charlie chuckled, turning around before he leashed me forward by my waist and pressed his lips against mine. I smiled, melting into him as I eagerly kissed him back.

"Oi, you two either quit snogging or get a room, alright? Merlin's sake, this isn't date-night …" Marius, one of Charlie's co-workers barked out, bringing us both to reality.

"Oh, leave them be, Marius," replied Barb, slapping the man's arm chidingly.

Charlie sighed, drawing back only to scowl in their general direction before turning to face me.

"I suppose we can't get rid of them just yet, can we?" he murmured, running a sheepish hand through his orange hair.

"They're _your_ co-workers," I retorted, batting his shoulder gently, "Though, speaking of co-workers I guess we should thank Bill for rearranging the paperwork for us …"  
Charlie shook his head, "I still can't believe that he forged your signature."

"I know," I nodded, "I would've cursed his arse if he hadn't done it so we could spend some more time together."

"I should probably send him a thank-you card after this then," Charlie agreed as we walked hand-in-hand up the way to the Forbidden Forest.

"Speaking of cards you haven't gotten any more letters from your Mum about this, have you?"

Charlie groaned, "Oh, I haven't dared tell Mum that the first task will be involving dragons; she's already having kittens about him," Charlie imitated the shrilled voice of his mother, "'_How could they let him enter that Tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!' _She was crying floods the other morning after that _Daily Prophet_ article about him too. _'He still cries about his parents! Oh, bless him, I never knew!'"_

I chortled, "Since when did your mother believe a word that Rita Skeeter says?"

"It was in the Witches' Weekly too," Charlie explained, "and you know how much my mum adores reading the Witches' Weekly …"  
I sighed, "So Harry's become the new gossip _du jour_?"  
Charlie nodded, "Pretty much."  
"Poor kid," I said as he slung a rug sack over his shoulder. "What's that you've got there?"

"A tent," he replied.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, the dragons will have to be under heavy sedation so we'll still need a Cursebreaker on-site in case anything does go wrong," reasoned Charlie, a mischievous glimmer in his doe-brown eyes as our gazes met.

"You planned this didn't you?"  
Charlie grinned, "Well, I won't lie: the idea of us sharing a tent together has crossed my mind once or twice," he admitted.  
I raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer so that our lips were almost touching. "Has it now?"

Even in the dim light, I could see the faintest hints of a blush forming beneath his freckles. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nothing inappropriate though!" he added quickly.

I couldn't help but laugh at his expression as he ducked his head.

"So, where are we setting this tent that you've been talking about?"

* * *

Much like Tonks', the small tent turned out to be much bigger on the inside; opening out into a full-scale bedroom with a small kitchen and dining room table. Instead of the two bunk beds from before, there was a single bed, made with sheets and a teal coloured duvet set. Charlie looked at me, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt as I took it all in.

"Dad let me borrow it for the month," he explained. "It's the same one from the Quidditch Cup only I …"

"Redecorated," I smiled, finishing his sentence for him as my eyes flittered over the large queen-sized mattress and homey interior.

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck, "I can always change it into two beds if you want to …"  
"No," I replied quickly, jumping up to stop him from taking out his wand. "This is fine … it's perfect."

If Charlie hadn't already been blushing he was definitely doing so now.

* * *

"Is … that my jumper?" Charlie asked as he ducked his head inside the tent later that night.

"Maybe …" I replied, levitating the kettle from the kitchen stove to pour itself out into two mugs on the dining room table.

Charlie raised an amused eyebrow; "Well you know you can't keep it forever … right?"

"I don't know," I murmured as I hugged it around my shoulders, "I mean it _is_ ridiculously comfortable. Not to mention warm."

Charlie rolled his eyes as he shuffled in closer, "Which is why I'd like it back sometime," he retorted, smiling despite himself.

"Jeez, Weasley … I'm not sure I could part with it just yet, …"

"Well, you're going to have to …" he said.  
"Says who?" I asked.

"Says me," he answered.

"Oh yeah?" I smirked, "And how exactly are you planning on taking it back, Weasley?"

Charlie paused for a moment before he leaned forward, "Well … I have a few ideas," he responded rather huskily as he closed the space between us until our lips were almost touching.

"Such as?"

My heart skipped a beat as his fingers grazed momentarily over my waist.

"Why don't you come closer and find out?"

"You're pathetic," I batted his face away with the sleeve of his jumper as he waggled his eyebrows.

"Well, I do try …"

* * *

"Good morning, beautiful," Charlie grinned, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"Hmm, morning," I hummed, smiling as he pressed his lips against my forehead.

I snuggled back into the warmth of his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath.

A smile seemed to flitter in Charlie's eyes as they flitted over me, sparkling amber in the morning light that filtered through the tent.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you reckon we could just stay like this forever?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow, "Don't you have work to do?"

"Eh, Marius can handle the Hungarian Horntail for once," he replied.

I giggled, shoving his shoulder gently. "And if he gets eaten?"

Charlie shrugged, "Wouldn't be the first time …"

"_Charlie_!"

"What? I was _joking_!" he grinned, chuckling as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

"… Maybe."

* * *

"Weren't you wearing a different shirt before?" I asked, glancing up from the book that I was reading as Charlie awkwardly shouldered his way into the tent that afternoon after work.

"Oh, yeah, well, dragon spew," replied Charlie with an unconvincing shrug.

I watched him wince as he tried to remove his shirt.

"Wait, what's that?" I frowned, catching a glimpse of the marred skin before he could completely cover it up.

"It's nothing," he murmured.

"Don't lie, I've seen it," I rebuked, catching him by his forearm and pulling up the rest of his shirt which revealed the full extent of his latest injury with a lurch of my stomach.

His flesh was completely disfigured from his rib up to his shoulder blade; bone-deep wounds running across his lower back, still raw against his tanned skin.

It was almost as if he'd been splinched – chunks of his flesh still missing.

I pursed my lips, "And how exactly were you planning on hiding this from me?"

"It's nothing serious, _really_," Charlie insisted, tensing slightly as I checked for any broken bones.

"Yeah right," I drawled sarcastically, poking his side and watching him grimace as if to prove my point, "Just another 'scratch' huh?"

Charlie shrugged, "Occupational hazard of the job," he replied.

"You really _are_ unbelievable you know that?" I sighed, retrieving a green bottle from the depths of my bag with a flick of my wand before I kneeled behind him.

I unscrewed it without another word, conjuring a cloth to dab it over the worst of his injuries.

"Ouch, a little gentler please?"

Charlie sucked in a breath, muscles tensing as the skin began to smoke.

I didn't respond, silently watching as his skin slowly yet surely began to knit itself back together; eventually scabbing over into more scars to add to the already abundant collection of burns that he'd received over the past five years.

I then went to healing the abrasions over his ribcage, relieved to see that he had somehow miraculously managed to avoid any serious internal injuries.

"Oh c'mon, don't be mad," he pouted, trying to catch my eye as I used a _Ferula_ charm to bandage the rest of his shoulder.

I huffed, standing up and going over to the small kitchen sink to rinse my hands before taking a Wiggenweld potion from the cabinet and handing it to him to drink.

He complied, downing the potion in a few gulps all while still trying to catch my gaze.

"_Please_?"

It was only when I heard the somewhat feeble pleading in his voice did I finally turn around to face him.

He sighed, "C'mon, come here."

Charlie readjusted himself on the bed, lifting his hands in the hope that I'd reciprocate.

I rolled my eyes, slowly approaching him but I couldn't help but complain.

"I still can't believe that you thought you could hide such a serious injury from me," I muttered as I sat beside him, "Aren't you ever scared of something worse happening?"

Charlie pursed his lips, frowning for a moment before he replied.

"I've never thought about it that much to be honest," he murmured.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

I shook my head, "that still doesn't answer my question, though," I replied.

Charlie paused, staring at me with a gaze of such inscrutable complexity that I couldn't quite decipher before he pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Well, normally I wouldn't be scared," he answered, his voice brushing against my ear as he spoke, "But now that I'm not alone? Yeah … I guess I am."

* * *

_So ... how was that? Enough fluff for you?  
Don't forget to review, follow and favourite! - S.G. _


	8. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any dragons for that matter. Though could you imagine how cool that would be? _

* * *

**Here be Dragons**

* * *

"Well you certainly took your time," I murmured once Charlie finally made his way into the tent late that night.

"Sorry, Dragons were _not_ happy when they woke up again," he replied, running a burnt hand through his smouldering red hair, "And Hagrid would've led his date right into the crossfire of it all if I hadn't stopped them."

"Hold up, did you just say Hagrid brought a _date_ with him?"

"Yep," Charlie nodded as he peeled off his over-shirt, "Him and Madame Maxine took a lovely stroll conveniently close to the clearing."

"Oh, how _romantic_," I hummed, beckoning him over to where I was already waiting on our makeshift bed, "And you've got yourself another burn I see."

"Well, it's not my fault that the Hungarian Horntail was grumpy when she realised that she was in another cage," he murmured, wincing as I examined the fresh wound.

"Still, you should be more careful," I tutted, running the tip of my wand over the withering skin before it slowly yet surely knitted itself back together.

"But then how else would I get to spend time with my own personal Healer?" he asked.

"You're ridiculous," I rolled my eyes, batting his shoulder lightly before snuggling back into his side.

"Ridiculously in love perhaps," Charlie chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss against my temple, "But when it comes to you, who can blame me?"

* * *

_A few weeks later..._

* * *

That Sunday, Charlie and I woke up in the early hours of the morning. There was still so much to prepare for the First Triwizard Tournament task that we opened our tent to see that the sun wasn't even up.

"You can still sleep in," reasoned Charlie, running a hand through his sleep-mused hair as he pulled on a clean shirt. "I won't be too long. I only have to take the dragons down to the pitch and set up a few extra things for the task."

I raised a sleepy eyebrow as I sat up and yawned.

"And sleep through you clunking about the tent louder than an erumpent? Hard pass."

"Oi, I'm not _that _loud," Charlie replied, reaching over to poke my nose before he pulled up his jeans.

I snorted, "Oh sure, Mister 'I-talk-about-dragons-in-my-sleep'."

Charlie pouted, pulling a face as I shuffled over to kiss his cheek before he let out a soft chuckle.

"Take another fifteen minutes," he said, pressing his lips to my forehead as he wrapped me in a warm embrace, "The boys and I can handle things out there."

"You sure?"

He nodded, "Positive."

Charlie gave me one last lingering kiss on the lips before he got up.

"Hey, Charlie?"

"Hmm?" he turned around.

"You sure you've got everything handled?"

"Of course, why?"

"Because you forgot to take your wand."

* * *

"You know, I could definitely get used to this." Charlie hummed, ducking into the tent before he leaned against one of the supporting beams while he watched me busy myself around the small kitchen.

"The view that good, huh?" I smirked, leaving the bacon to simmer for a moment before I reached out to leash him closer by the loop of his belt buckle.

"Uh-huh," he smiled; his chest flushed against mine as he bent over and pressed a heart-melting kiss to my lips, "Told you I wouldn't take too long and is that bacon by any chance?"

"Maybe …" I replied, pulling away to take the said bacon off the heat before levitating the still-hot frying pan to the small table where it divided itself into two separate portions.

Charlie grinned, his eyes sparkling like amber as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

"You're amazing, Cursebreaker."

* * *

Cedric Diggory entered the ring first, looking greener than ever.

To say that Cedric had changed was an understatement. True, he'd always been good-looking, even in his first year but Cedric Diggory had clearly grown to be quite the young wizard and a relatively handsome looking one at that.  
"Ooh, narrow miss there, very narrow," Bagman's voice boomed over the loudspeaker as Cedric hit the ground behind a rock, dodging a blast of fire from the Swedish Short-Snout by a hair.

"He's taking risks, this one!" exclaimed Bagman, the crowd around us all gasping and yelling like a single many-headed entity as Cedric pulled out his wand, and I couldn't help but be impressed by his spell-work as he transfigured a nearby rock into a large Labrador. The dragon snarled, eyes immediately darting towards where the dog sat and bared its fangs and it seemed that she was getting ready to blast it before she decided that she'd rather go for Cedric instead.

"Clever move – pity it didn't work!"

He leapt to the side, the fire setting his robes ablaze and he swore as he struggled to extinguish it.

It took another fifteen nerve-wracking minutes until Cedric finally seized the golden egg and the crowd roared.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman shouted over the roar of the crowd. "And now, the marks from the judges!"

* * *

"One down, three to go!" yelled Bagman, as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

It wasn't long until a slender blonde-haired witch walked onto the pitch, her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. The same process started again.

Fleur had taken to trying to bewitch the Welsh green dragon into an enchanted sleep. It seemed that she had almost succeeded when she chose the wrong moment to step out only for the dragon to let out a snore, breathing fire over her robes. "Oh, I'm not sure that was wise!" Bagman shouted gleefully as the witch leapt to the side, putting out the fire with a stream of water from her wand.

"Oh … nearly! Careful now … good Lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Fleur had to keep ducking and diving as the sleeping dragon let out a yawn, fire spilling from its jaws as it curled itself around its eggs. Ten minutes later, Fleur had reached the egg and the crowd erupted into applause once more. There was a pause, while Fleur's marks were announced … more clapping … then, for the third time, the whistle.

* * *

"And here comes Mr Krum!" cried Bagman as Krum slouched out.

I watched it all fold out in slow motion, Krum's _Conjunctivitis_ jinx hit true to its mark.

"Very daring!" Bagman yelled as the Chinese Fireball emitted a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath.

Past memories from when I'd cast the exact same spell back in the underground vault came rippling to the surface as the Chinese Fireball roared, thrashing out blindly with puss protruding from its reptilian eyes while Viktor Krum made a dive for the golden egg.

"That's some nerve he's showing – and – yes, he's got the egg!"

Applause shattered the wintery air as the dragon screeched, stumbling back towards its eggs.

"No, no, no, this is not happening," swore Charlie, leaping out over the railing with his wand out as he joined the other dragon tamers who were all hurrying over the edge into the arena.

I stood up, running over to the side as I watched the Weasley dive headfirst into the rampage, using his body to protect the eggs as the dragon's tail swiped across the rocks and my heart froze as a resounding thud resonated throughout the stadium.

No.

No, no, no …

Silence hung over the crowd as the dust cleared, revealing Charlie on his feet relatively unscathed holding the remaining dragon eggs under each arm.

"Thank Merlin," I sighed; relief washing over me as Marius and Barb appeared, subduing the dragon with a series of well-aimed stunning spells before going to help Charlie.

Charlie seemed to be yelling at them, saying something that was inaudible from this distance as he cradled the eggs in his arms though I didn't need to be able to hear what he was saying to know that he was angry.  
And so he should be.

He'd told them not to put the eggs out with the mother hadn't he?

I shuddered, wondering just how furious he was as I pushed my way through the crowds and hurried down to the pitch where Charlie was still cradling the eggs like a mother carrying her baby.

Charlie didn't respond, his attention solely focused on the eggs as he examined them for any cracks.

Barb looked up, shaking her head as if to signal for me not to come over; sweat beading her wrinkled forehead as she began talking to the Weasley who was still fussing over the two eggs.

* * *

"How's the Chinese Fireball doing?" I asked gently once he reapproached the stands.

"She can see again, but she's still in a lot of pain," Charlie grumbled writhing his hands as if he was trying to strangle somebody, "And her eggs were destroyed." He shook his head, "I told them that we shouldn't have put any real eggs in the ring, but would anybody listen to me? Of course not! We're lucky that I managed to salvage two but we lost two unborn dragons today Bethany, _two_, and everybody else is cheering about it …"

"Would a kiss help?"

"Absolutely," he replied.

I smiled, cupping his cheek in the palm of my hand as I went on my tiptoes to kiss him softly, and he responded, tentative at first until I slowly yet surely felt him relax against me.

"We should probably find our seats if we don't want to miss the action."  
Charlie smiled slightly, his eyes still tinged with sadness till he let out a sigh before he took my hand in his and pressed another kiss to the base of my knuckles.

"Lead the way."

There was another pause as Krum's scores were shown before the whistle sounded for the fourth time.

* * *

"And next is Harry Potter!"

We made it back to our seats just in time to see Harry step out, legs shaking as he walked past the trees, through the gap into the enclosure fence. I couldn't even begin to imagine how he must have felt, having hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from the stands before he looked up to see the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure. She snarled, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled and her yellow eyes watching him intently as he made his way through the arena. She growled, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground and I couldn't help but wince.

The crowd around us was making a great deal of noise now; some friendly while others from another part of the stands yelled loud boos. I recognised one of them to be Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. He looked just like his father, long-faced with white-blonde hair and the same jeering smirk.

Harry raised his wand.  
"_Accio_ Firebolt!" he shouted.

We all waited with bated breath before it came speeding through the air behind him and I turned to see his Firebolt hurtling towards him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure and stopping dead in mid-air beside him, waiting for him to mount and he did.

He swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the ground before he shot up into the sky. He kept flying, becoming a mere dot above the Quidditch pitch where he stayed; seeming to gather up the nerve to do whatever it was he was planning …

He dived. The Horntail's head followed him as he pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire being released exactly where he would have been if he had not swerved when he did, acting as if it were as easy as dodging a Bludger …

"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman, as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr Krum?"

Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck.

"Brilliant!" grinned Charlie, the previous mishap with the Chinese Fireball seemingly forgotten as we watched Harry hover over the pitch.

Harry plummeted just as the dragon opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky – he'd missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead and he swerved to the left, one of the long spikes grazing his shoulder, ripping his robes.

We gasped as Harry continued, teeth gritted as he zoomed back around the Horntail, who, though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her winds was too afraid to move away from her eggs. Harry flew in a zigzag, keeping just out of reach of her fire but still posing a sufficient enough threat to ensure that she kept her eyes on him. The dragon's head swayed to-and-fro, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared …

He flew higher and the Horntail's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer. He rose a few feet more and she let out a roar of exasperation. He was like a fly to her, a fly that she longed to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now … she shot fire into the air, which he dodged … her jaws opened wide …

After a few moments of taunting, she finally reared, spreading her great black leathery wings at last, as wide as those of an aeroplane – and Harry dived. Before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding towards the ground as fast as he could possibly go, towards the eggs now unprotected by her clawed, front legs – he had taken his hands off his Firebolt and seized the golden egg.

And, with a huge spurt of speed, he was off again, soaring out over the stands with the heavy egg safely tucked under his uninjured arm as the crowd erupted, screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup.

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that? Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!"

Charlie leapt out of his seat for the second time, rushing forward with the other dragon-keepers to subdue the Horntail as Harry landed at the entrance of the enclosure where a gaggle of his closest friends were already waiting for him.

Each contestant so far had been given marks out of ten from each of the five judges. The first judge – Madame Maxine – raised her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure, eight.

Mr Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

Next was Dumbledore. He, too, put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman – ten.

Yells and applause erupted from the crowd. And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand – a four.

"What?" Fred and George both bellowed in unison behind me. "That's rubbish!"

"You're tied in first place, Harry!" exclaimed Charlie excitedly, hurrying down from the stands as we came down to meet the others as the students set off back towards the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl; I swore I'd tell her what happened – that was unbelievable! Oh yeah – and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes … Bagman wants a word, back in the champion's tent."

Ron said he would wait as Harry re-entered the tent.

"They are just so _stupid_," continued Hermione as we joined her on the way back to the castle, "I mean they refuse to talk to each other for weeks on end and then suddenly_ POOF! _They're best friends again!"

"I'm just glad that the two of them patched things up … oh _Merlin_," I groaned, as a certain reporter came frolicking down from the stands. It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand, blended perfectly against them.

"Quick, hide me!"

Charlie nodded, automatically draping his jacket over my shoulders as the two of us bid Hermione a quick farewell before darting out of the way of the reporter who had just leapt out from behind a clump of trees near Ron and Harry who had re-emerged from out of the tent.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she beamed as she hurried towards them. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel _now_ about the fairness of the scoring?"  
"Yeah," I heard Harry reply savagely, "You can have a word: Goodbye."

* * *

"It's been ages since we last came up here," Charlie murmured as we climbed up the spiral staircase till which reached the top of the Owlery.

"Yeah, one of Talbott's favourite hiding places," I recalled, my breath coming out in small gasps of ice as I gazed up towards the large statue of the stone owl in the middle. Charlie paused, "Speaking of which, how is Talbott?" he asked, his voice gentle as he approached.

"If only I knew," I replied, leaning back against his chest as he hugged me from behind.

I hadn't heard from Talbott since the Death Eater attack at the Quidditch Cup, heck, not even Tonks had seen the auror since that night …

I bit my lower lip, silently praying that he was okay.

"You could always send him a letter?" suggested Charlie, his voice tickling my ear lobe as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

"For that, I'd have to find him first," I murmured.

"Well if anybody can find him, it's you," he said, rubbing his exceptionally warmer hands over mine and kissing my forehead before he reluctantly let go to pull out the letter that he'd promised to send to his mother as soon as the first task had ended.

"You always seem to know exactly what to say," I smiled as I watched him select a school owl from the perches and tie the envelope to its leg before we let it go off the balcony.  
"I'm only saying the truth," he shrugged, scanning the skyline as he leaned against the railing of the balcony.

"Still," I replied, our shoulders bumping against one another as I sidled up next to him, "It helps."

"Well, I'm always happy to be of service to you, Cursebreaker," Charlie grinned.

* * *

_How was that for the First Task? Exciting enough?_

_Don't forget to favourite, follow and review! _

_xoxo - S.G. _


	9. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I do not own Celestina Warbeck's songs or Harry Potter_

* * *

**A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love**

* * *

It took the dragon-keepers nearly two hours of stunning charms and sleeping draughts to coax each dragon into their respective cages.

"Everything sorted?" I asked as I watched Charlie refasten the chains on the last of the dragons.

"Almost," he nodded, "Still got to lock up a few things before I can turn in for the night."

"Alright, Dragon-tamer," I replied, "See you in a bit then?"  
"You bet," Charlie nodded.  
I smiled, giving him one last kiss before I walked back through the clearing towards our campsite in the woods as he leaned against a nearby tree trunk.

"I love it when she calls me that."

* * *

"You know what? I reckon we should do this more often," Charlie murmured as we lay together looking up at the starry night above.

"What? Star-gazing?"

"Well, that and more," Charlie shrugged, lacing his hand with mine and squeezing it gently. Not too far away, the Beauxbatons' carriages still glowed a celestial blue and Durmstrang's colossal ship still shone their lights from the Black Lake. It seemed that nobody was sleeping tonight.

I smiled, leaning back on Charlie's chest as he wrapped me in his warm embrace.

"We really should," I agreed.

"Which is why you should come to visit me more often," he added.

I raised an eyebrow, "What? Like you don't own a broom?" I teased.

"I'm serious," he said, his chest vibrating with barely contained laughter as he brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face, "Skive off work and come stay with me in Romania for a bit."

"I can't skive off work," I retorted, shoving his face away as he slung his arm over my shoulder.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, I'm the Head-Cursebreaker."

"Eh, get Bill to fill in for you," he replied, waving a dismissive hand as I nudged him. "But seriously, what is the point of being _Madam Cursebreaker _if you can't get yourself a few days off?"

"I _have_ been taking a few days off, Genius. To spend time with you _here_, remember?" I said, flicking his forehead with my index finger.

"But you know you want to …" he waggled his eyebrows and I let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Charles Weasley, are you trying to seduce me?"

"That depends," he murmured, "… Is it working?"

I rolled my eyes, "Git."

"But a _handsome_ git, right?"

* * *

After a much-needed nap, Charlie and I woke up after a few short hours to find that most of the campsite had already been packed up.

"Up you get love-birds," Barb chimed as we emerged from our tent.

"Yeah, if you don't finish packing in the next five minutes we'll be leaving you lot behind," taunted Marius.

"Fine by me," replied Charlie with a shrug, "Go ahead."

Barb rolled her eyes, murmuring something about 'young love' beneath her breath before she urged Marius to hurry up.

"Aw, what'd you do that for?" Marius protested when the older witch put out the fire with a flick of her wand. "They haven't even gotten packed yet!"

"You heard him," Barb responded, "Weasley can make his own way home, and so will you if you don't get up off that lazy arse of yours …"

* * *

True to their word, Barb and Marius left with the others.

Charlie brewed me a cup of hot tea to keep my hands warm before we finished packing our things. We walked side-by-side, our shadows stretching long in the bright streetlights.

"Speaking of tea, you never did go out on that date to Madam Puddifoot's Tea shop," Charlie mentioned conversationally as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"That's probably because my 'crush' was more interested in studying _dragons_ than dating," I teased lightly.

Charlie paused, his eyes widening for a moment before he broke out into a smile.

"Does that mean the note you wrote in Snape's class all those years ago … was supposed to be for _me_?"

My heart sank and a feeling of depression mixed with embarrassment swept over me. I nodded, blushing slightly as I averted my gaze. "I thought it was kinda obvious …"

Silence hung over us for a moment as we strolled through Hogsmeade. In the distance, people were cheering as fireworks exploded in the sky and we could hear the chink of Butterbeer tankards echoing as we passed the Three-Broomsticks. It seemed that the after-party celebrations for the Triwizard Tournament had only just begun. In fact, with the Triwizard Tournament on hand, it was a surprise not to see even more people out on the streets.

"I don't _only_ think about dragons you know," Charlie mumbled, the tips of his ears tinging red as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

I giggled, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Name one other thing that's been on your mind?"

"Well … you've been on my mind …"

I faltered, temporarily forgetting how to speak when I heard him say that before I quickly managed to recover myself.

"I mean something that was on your mind when we were at _school_, genius."

Charlie chuckled and stopped in his tracks.

He raised his hands, ran them through my hair before he rested them on my neck. The soft callouses of his fingertips grew warmer as he rubbed the skin exposed by my scarf. I could feel my ears flushing red and found myself speechless once again.

"You really care?"

I didn't dare look up to see his face but I nodded. He chuckled again, his voice resonating melodiously in the night air as he leaned down to rest his forehead on mine. The softness of his breath blew through my hair, feeling slightly ticklish against my skin but deliciously warm.

"I know that I was an oblivious idiot back in school," he murmured, "but, in the future, I promise that I'll give it my all to stay with you, take good care of you, and love you."

My breathing hitched as his words washed over me, filling my heart with an indescribable welling of complex emotions.

"I bet that's what you tell all the dragons at the reserve," I quipped back gently and I heard him snort.

"You really love taking the mickey out of me, don't you Cursebreaker?"

"Only because your reactions are so adorable," I replied.

He chuckled, pressing his lips against my forehead.

"Since we're already here, why don't we pop into Madam Puddifoot's Teashop for that date?" he suggested whilst slipping his hand back into mine.

"At this time of night?"

Charlie shrugged, "Well, if memory serves me right our reconnaissance _did_ deem it to be the most suitable place for a first-date in Hogsmeade," he continued.

I cocked my head to the side as I mused over his proposition. "Do you reckon it's the most suitable place for second-dates too?"

"I don't see why not?"

I smirked, linking my arm with his. "Alright, but only if it's open. I don't fancy getting arrested for breaking into a teashop."

* * *

Much to our surprise not only did it seem to be open but Madam Puddifoot herself also greeted us. She was a plump woman with a frilly rose apron, a shiny black bun and a kind round face.

"Oh, hello m' dearies, I haven't seen you two in _ages_," beamed the witch, her brown eyes twinkling as soon as she spotted us outside, "I wasn't expecting customers tonight but come in, come in!"

Madam Puddifoot smiled, bouncing on the balls of her heels as she ushered us inside.

It was still the same cramped, steamy little place that I remembered, where the décor seemed to be on the tacky side of everything pink and frilly.

"Choose a table and make yourselves at home," she said, "Just be mindful of the teacups."

I glanced back at the precarious pyramid of delicate china and couldn't help but reminisce. Tonks, of course, had sent the entire tower crashing down the last time we'd visited together. Charlie seemed to be remembering the same thing because he picked a table for us as far away as possible from the stacked teacups.

"Would you like any finger-foods while you're waiting?"

"Er … I'll have whatever she chooses," replied Charlie.

"Oh, what a lovely gentleman you are," she hummed, "You picked well with this one. I always knew you two would make the _perfect_ couple from the moment you first stepped into my parlour those many years ago."

If Charlie and I hadn't been blushing before, we were almost certainly blushing now.

"Um, we should be fine with biscuits first …" I stammered.

"Biscuits sound great," Charlie agreed immediately.

"Alright, enjoy your biscuits while I pop around the back to fetch you my special brew."

The witch tottered away, humming the tune to _'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love'_ by Celestina Warbeck as she went, leaving us to munch awkwardly on the various condiments that appeared on a shiny golden platter in front of us.

"You've got a little something on your face," I said.

Charlie blushed, hastily trying to wipe his mouth only to smear the icing sugar on his cheek.  
I couldn't help but let out a giggle, "Here, let me."

I reached over the table, the tips of my fingers drifting over the corner of his lips as I wiped away the last of the white powdered sugar for him.

"You've got some too," he murmured, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he shuffled in closer.

"Huh?" Before I had the chance to touch my face with confusion, Charlie leaned over, dipped his index finger into a dollop of whipped cream and dotted it on my cheek.

"You …"

"Hmm? Me what?" Charlie replied innocently with a broad smile as he pulled away looking very satisfied.

"Oh, so that's how you wanna play it?" I smirked, scooping a dollop of my own and tracing a heart on his cheek. I leaned back, observing my 'masterpiece' with a light hum.

"There we go," I smiled, "Now we're even."

Somehow even with cream on his face Charlie still looked as handsome as ever.

The dragon-tamer raised an eyebrow, pulling his chair in closer so that we were side-by-side and suddenly tackled me to the floor.

"Charlie! What are doing?"

"Nothing," he replied calmly, pinning me down with one hand while he dipped the other in whipped cream.

"You …"

"What?"

His breath touched my skin, warm and deliciously intoxicating.

The fingertip stained with cream touched my nose. Lightly callused, his finger was soft against my skin, the upward curve that tugged at his lips suggesting just how much he was enjoying this.

"_Aaand, _done."

I was about to respond when Madam Puddifoot's voice suddenly drifted into the room.

"I wasn't sure whether you wanted honey or sugar so I brought both …"

She trailed off, her eyes and mouth both wide open at the sight of us sprawled on the floor of her teashop. Charlie blushed, his entire face going scarlet to the roots of his orange hair as we quickly untangled ourselves.

"Sorry," he murmured, ducking his head as he helped me up. "We got a bit carried away …"  
Madam Puddifoot let out a tinkling laugh, "Not to worry m' dears," she replied reassuringly, "I've seen my share of young couples in this shop, don't you worry."

She smiled as she placed a teapot of brewed tea on our table before she levitated two separate jars of sugar and honey while we scrambled into our seats.

The witch raised her wand and the candles dimmed around us.

"Now, I'll be in the back if you need anything," she said cheerfully, "Enjoy your tea."

We nodded, faces flushed as she totted off again before I turned back to poke his chest.

"That was your fault, Weasley."

"You loved it though," Charlie grinned, not at all sorry and I couldn't help but giggle despite myself.

It was true. I did love it.

* * *

_To make up for the fact that we can't date Charlie in Hogwarts Mystery I decided to add one here. _

_Hope you've enjoyed it so far! _

_xoxo - S.G. _


	10. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I'm just another Potterhead_

* * *

**Negotiations**

* * *

Much to our delight, unlike last time, this date ended with the shattering of neither Madam Puddifoot's fine china teacups nor her horrified squeals.

"Are you sure you've had enough m' dears?" the witch repeated for the fifth time that night, "What about a few doggy bags for the road?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm stuffed," replied Charlie.

"And when it comes to Charlie, that's definitely saying something," I added.  
"Oi! I'm not _that_ bad," he grumbled.

"You were literally _inhaling_ those profiteroles," I pointed out.

Charlie frowned, opening his mouth as if to protest but upon thinking remained lost for words and I couldn't help but smile with the satisfaction that I had finally beat him.

"My, oh, my! Why aren't you two just adorable? Here, before I forget …" Madam Puddifoot sang, her laughter tinkling like bells as she levitated a sizable container of baked goods to land on my lap with a flick of her wand.

"Oh no, we couldn't …"

"Nonsense," she beamed, cutting me off before I could finish my sentence, "Take it, I insist." Much like Mrs Weasley, the witch's chirpy voice left no room for arguing, giving us no choice but to accept.

Charlie sighed, shrinking the package to size before pocketing it while I took out a sack chinking with galleons from my jacket.

"My word, that's far too much!" gasped Madam Puddifoot.

"Take it, we insist," I said, echoing her own words as I pressed the pouch into her hands until she eventually relented.

"I … well, thank you. That's awfully sweet of you m' dears," she said, her chest swelling with emotion as she accepted the pouch with a watery smile.

"We should be the ones thanking you for giving us such a lovely night," replied Charlie. And with that, we bid farewell to Madam Puddifoot before disapparating directly to Gringotts.

* * *

"_HOOT!"_ Pepper jumped from her perch above my desk, her amber eyes glaring reproachfully at our arrival as she ruffled her feathers.

"Sorry," I apologised, refilling her food pouch with a handful of her favourite owl treats which quickly pacified her complaints. Pepper hooted, seemingly appeased as she eagerly flew to her feeding bowl.

"Wow," Charlie's eyes widened as he took in the expanse of my lavish new office. "I didn't even know that it was possible to apparate directly into Gringotts …"

"It's not," I replied, stroking Pepper's feathers before catching one of the various files that levitated themselves out from the large filing cabinet in the corner. "But being Gringotts' Head Cursebreaker does come with its benefits."

Charlie nodded as he ran a hand along with the spines of books and tomes on the cabinet display.

"Bill's office is outside just around the corner if you want to pop in," I offered, "Knowing him, he'd probably appreciate it, not to mention the extra cookies."

"You sure?"

I nodded, "I can't exactly jet off without giving any notice," I reasoned, "And I still have one more thing that I've been meaning to follow up on for a while now. Don't worry," I added when I saw his expression, "It'll only take a few minutes."

"Alright, take your time, Love." He smiled, placing a lingering kiss to my lips before he went outside in search for his brother.

I sat at my desk, flicking through the files on hand.

Pepper squawked; amber eyes blinking as she craned her neck as if to read over my shoulder.

"I appreciate the concern, Pepper, but I've done all the research – you know I can't put it off any longer …"

She inclined her head, leaving her perch to land on my shoulder with a loving coo. I smiled as she gave my fingers an affectionate nip.

"The Head-Teller Goblin wishes an audience with you," the large grandfather clock chimed, just as I had predicted.

"Speak of the devil," I mumbled, taking one last look at the report before I let him in.

* * *

"Madam Cursebreaker," the Head-Teller Goblin inclined his head as the doors opened inwards on their own. "I trust that …"  
"I know about the other dragons, Griphook."

The goblin's eyes dilate momentarily as the doors shut behind him. "I-I'm afraid I do not understand what it is you are referring to," he lied, tugging uncomfortably at his white collar.

"I am referring to the _dragons_ that you have been _illegally _imprisoning to 'protect' your high-security vaults," I replied coldly, "You know; those large, scaly, fire-breathing creatures that you've been keeping in _chains_?"

The Head-Teller Goblin seemed to pale slightly.

"How …"

I crossed my arms, "I may not be Patricia Rakepick, but I _am_ very good at my job."

"You … you have _no_ right to question Gringotts' security!" he spluttered indignantly as he puffed out his chest.

"And _you_ have _no _right to hold innocent creatures captive in such horrible conditions!" I retorted heatedly as I rose from my desk, "Now you can either make this right by improving these horrible conditions and releasing _all _of the magical creatures that you have _illegally_ obtained or, I can _personally_ request both the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to conduct a _full-scale _investigation of the bank _and_ its vaults."

I could see the anger rippling through the goblin's resentful black pupils before he dutifully bowed his head.

"As you wish, Madam Cursebreaker."

* * *

Griphook left, muttering venomous slurs in Gobbledegook just as Charlie came inside.

"Um … is everything alright?" he asked, frowning as the goblin grumpily shoved passed him.

"Yeah, just a difference in opinion," I said as I sent my files to sort themselves back into their corresponding drawers.

"You sure? That goblin looked right pissed …"

"He did, didn't he?" I replied, smiling despite myself.

"Don't worry," I added, sensing his unease as I smoothed my hands over his jacket. "It's nothing that a little _negotiation_ couldn't solve."

"Negotiation, huh?" Charlie smirked, his eyes glinting amber in the candlelight as his arms laced their way around my waist. "And what would that comprise of exactly?"

"I'm afraid that information is classified," I quipped back, going up on my tiptoes to peck a kiss to his cheek. "Speaking of which, I'm guessing by your lack of leftovers that you saw your brother?"

Charlie nodded, "He's not too happy about me whisking his Head of Department away again, but he did agree to fill in for you on the condition that he gets my share of mince pies next Christmas."

"What? Did you give up your precious mince pies for me?" I grinned, pretending to swoon in his arms as he tugged me close. "Blimey, Weasley – you really _are_ pulling out all the tricks, aren't you?"

Charlie chuckled, the hum of his laughter tickling against my cheek as he rested his forehead on top of my own.

"Anything for you, my Dear."

* * *

"You really love it here, don't you?"

Charlie smiled, taking in a deep breath of mountain air as he ran a sheepish hand through his windswept hair. "That obvious, huh?"

"Just a little bit."

We dismounted from his broom, carrying my shrunk-down-to-travel-size trunk and a woven pet carrier.

Brina meowed. She'd never been much of a flier and was no doubt grumpy after being shut up in her cat carrier since leaving the United Kingdom via broom.

"Fine," I said, "You can wait at the cottage then."  
I waved my wand and Brina vanished along with my small travel-sized trunk.

We made our way up through the sleepy wizarding village settled at the base of the Carpathian Mountains before we reached the beginning of what appeared to be a blocked off hiking trail. Charlie kept walking, passing through the metal barrier as if it were a mirage that simply did not exist and I followed suit. The world seemed to temporarily swirl around us before we stepped out of the shadows onto the other side at the very mouth of an impressive mountain range that stretched out in an enormous arch.

The dragon sanctuary itself was cleverly situated at the very heart of the caldera, surrounded by towering cliff faces on all sides. The location's natural defences, as well as its terrain and added disillusionment charms, made the sanctuary completely indistinguishable from the surrounding mountainside. It was, as Charlie described, the perfect cocoon of a dragon's paradise; all wrapped amongst mountains of ice and snow.

This, of course, hadn't been my first time coming to the dragon sanctuary but the sight of it seemed to render me speechless every time.

"There are a few things that I've been dying to show you," Charlie piped, eyes shining with barely contained excitement as we reached the heavy bronze gates that seemed to open by themselves upon our arrival.

* * *

"Well if it isn't Charlie fricking Weasley finally deciding to show up," Marius drawled from the front desk as we walked inside. "We figured you'd either died or got pissed …"

"I didn't take _that_ long," Charlie frowned, rubbing the back of his neck as he averted his gaze.

"Oi, stop tormenting the poor boy, for Merlin's sake." Barb's voice chastised from the open door of the nearby office. "The stables still need to be cleaned out …"  
"I don't mind cleaning them out again, Barb." Charlie offered as he put down his duffel bag.

"Yeah, make Weasley do it," agreed Marius.

"Nice try boy, but you're not getting off the hook that easily," she poked her head out of the office before she flashed us a toothy grin, "Besides, Charlie here has company and it'd be bad manners to make her wait around for him."  
"Old crone," Marius muttered trudging away with a bucket and mop.

"I heard that!"

"Let's get going before she changes her mind," whispered Charlie.

* * *

"So this is the famed Norbert that Hagrid kept talking about?" I replied, admiring the dragon from afar as it dozed in a small patch of sun.

"The one and only," Charlie replied, leaning against the railing as he came up behind me. "Though, as it turns out … Hagrid's Norbert isn't really a Norbert …"

I frowned, momentarily confused before it dawned on me.

"When did you first realise?"

"Probably after she tried to bite my head off," said Charlie with a casual wave of his hand. "The females are always more aggressive than the males."

"Wow, I suppose Norbert doesn't really suit her then."

Charlie nodded, "We decided to rechristen her Norberta now."

We watched the adolescent dragon raise her head before letting out a short plume of fire as if to show off.

"Marius wanted to go with either Cranky or Bitey," Charlie continued as Norberta unfolded her leathery wings to stretch, baring rows of razor-sharp teeth in an obvious display of dominance before eventually curling back to sleep.

* * *

"Oh. My. Gosh."

"Newly hatched. Adorable aren't they? Well, in an eat-your-face-off sort of way."

Charlie grinned as he led me inside the enclosure, handing me a baby dragon the size of a small cat while he took out a bottle of brandy and chicken blood.

The dragon squawked, reptilian eyes looking up at me as its claws sank themselves into my dragon-hind gloves.

"_RAWK_!"

"Somebody knows that it's feeding time," I remarked as the tiny dragon began to gnaw at my gloved fingers.

"That's Barny for you," Charlie chuckled, "Here, take this."

He passed me the bottle, guiding me as Barny the dragon quickly latched onto the nib and drank.

"You're a natural."  
"Thanks," I smiled, "It's actually not too different from feeding a hippogriff …"

It was only when the dragon had lapped up the last drops did I realise that Charlie was still staring at me.

"Uh … Charlie? Earth to Charlie?" I waved my free hand in front of his face, clearly bringing him back to reality.

"Hmm … What? I definitely wasn't daydreaming about wanting to hand-raise dragons with you!" he blurted out suddenly before his face flushed pink.

"I didn't just say that out loud, did I?"

"You did."

"Oh god," Charlie groaned, burying his face in his hands in an attempt to hide the red tinge that was rising up his freckled cheeks to the very roots of his hair.

I sniggered, placing the dragon back to its nest before I shuffled beside him.

He huffed, pouting sulkily from between his fingers and I smiled.

"Well … if it helps, it's not like it's the _first_ time you thought that …"

Charlie let out another groan.

* * *

_Hi! I know that I haven't updated for a while but I promise that more is coming. _

_Don't forget to favourite, follow and review!_

_xoxo - S.G. _


	11. Chapter 10

_Hi again! _

_So, recently the council has decided to cut off our internet for the new 'NBN' but they conveniently forgot to install it. *Sigh* I suppose that's the council for you ... Also for those who haven't already realised, I have been updating my fanfiction to correlate with the massive bombshell in Hogwarts Mystery that was ... urgh, nope, I won't spoil it for those who haven't played it yet. _

_Just a warning, this chapter might contain a bit more adult-like themes than the previous chapters did. I'm not talking about overtly mature-aged themes but discretion is still implied. _

_I hope you enjoy! - S.G.  
_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of these Fluff balls._

* * *

**Warm Palms and Operation Dragon-Nest**

* * *

"Hey kitty, did you miss us?"

Brina meowed, purring as she tottered out to greet us on the veranda of the white-bricked cottage before following us inside where she promptly made herself at home on the nearby couch.

"It's not too cold for you is it?" asked Charlie, magically lighting the fireplace with a casual flick of his wand. "Do you need blankets? An extra jumper?"

I shook my head, "You worry too much, Weasley."

Charlie chuckled, running a sheepish hand through his orange hair.

"Sorry … I just want everything to be perfect …"

I smiled, tugging him forward as he peeled off his jacket.

"It is perfect … _you're_ perfect."

I could see the tips of his ears tinge red under the dim light as he rested his head against mine for a moment before being interrupted by Brina's insistent meows and he sighed.

"I'm telling you that cat has it in for me," he murmured mostly to himself as he kissed me lightly. "Make yourself at home. Dinner will be ready soon."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" I asked as I heard a loud bang followed by a few swearwords coming from the kitchen.

"Nope, everything is absolutely under control," Charlie replied.  
Brina meowed from where she sat near the fireplace.  
"Don't say _that_," I hissed, "I'm sure he's not going to burn down the kitchen. Have a little faith in him …"  
"Meow."

* * *

"Er … Charlie? Is the oven supposed to be smoking?"  
"Huh? Ah crap, not again!" he swore, opening the oven with his bare hands only to retract it with another flurry of curses.

"You alright?" I frowned, hurrying over to examine the injury before I ran the tip of my wand over the burnt skin with a hasty healing charm. "Aprigga's sake, Charlie, I swear to _Merlin_ that you'll have more burns than freckles if you keep this up …"

"It's fine," he replied, gently peeling his hands away before I could say another word. "I'm a big, strong dragon-tamer after all …"

I raised an eyebrow, noticing that the cauldron on the stove was starting to boil over. "Oh? Well does the 'big, strong dragon-tamer' need some help in the kitchen?"

"No, no, no, you're my _guest_!" said Charlie, "I promised that I'd cook for you and that's exactly what I plan on doing."

"Okay, Dragontamer," I smirked, going up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I'll leave you to it then."

* * *

"See? I told you I'd cook for you," Charlie said as he brought the still bubbling cauldron over to the dining room table.

"You did," I nodded as I sat down opposite him. "And what culinary masterpiece have you cooked up for me tonight?"

"Bean soup," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as the stew ladled itself into two separate bowls. "It's practically one of the only national dishes that I can actually cook right."

"Well, it looks amazing," I replied, squeezing his outstretched palm in mine with a reassuring smile before Brina let out another meow.

"What do you say, Brina? Want a try?"

For dessert, Charlie brought out two plates of what looked like cream and berry syrup covered pasties.

"It's called Papanași," supplied Charlie as he spooned the fried pastry into my mouth. "Think of it as Romania's traditional doughnut."

The crispiness of the dough crunched in my mouth with a tangy burst of wild berries and cream.  
"Good, huh?" he smiled, catching a dribble of juice that escaped down my chin. "I can never make them quite the same as they do in the restaurants though …"

"It's brilliant."

* * *

_A little later ..._

* * *

"What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" Charlie frowned, shuffling over to feel my forehead with the outstretched palm of his hand before I had the chance to respond.

"Hmm … it doesn't feel like you have a fever," he continued, brown eyes flickering as he pursed his lips, "Is it a stomach ache? Oh Merlin, don't tell me that my cooking gave you _food poisoning_ …"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," I said quickly, trying to pry his hand away from me only for his frown to deepen. "I'm fine – _really_."

"But … you keep doubling over …"  
His eyebrows knitted together with concern as he looked me over before he noticed the bright coloured packaging jutting out of my toiletry bag.

Charlie cocked his head to the side, picking it up before I had the chance to stop him and my blood ran cold.

"Huh? What's this? Extra-long for night use?" he frowned, completely bewildered by my reaction before it eventually dawned on him. "You mean? Oh … r-right …" he coughed into his fist.

_Oh, Merlin. _

Silence hung between us as I buried my face into the nearest pillow, wishing for a quick, preferably painless death …

"You know, female dragons go through a similar … monthly cycle," Charlie murmured conversationally.

For Aprigga's sake, was he really talking about dragons _now_?

If I hadn't already been mortified I might have laughed but I only managed to make a slightly muffled whimper against the pillow.

"Anyway," continued Charlie, "What I meant to say is that I actually have some experience when it comes to these things … Just … wait a minute."

He got up and left the living room before he soon came back with a hot water bottle and a cup of hot tea.

* * *

"The hot water bottle and your tea are getting cold," Charlie murmured, "Let me make you a new one …"

"No, don't move," I said, holding his hands in place to stop him from getting up.

He frowned, "But I need to reheat the hot water bottle for you …"

"Forget about that. Your hands are warmer than a hot water bottle."  
Charlie cocked an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

He chuckled, "Alright then, whatever Milady desires."

"You feeling better?" Charlie asked me after a while.

"Thanks to you," I nodded, smiling as he hugged me from behind.

He chuckled, shuffling over to plant a kiss on the side of my head.  
"Well if anybody deserves the attention it's you," he murmured. "I mean, it _is_ your day after all …"  
"Oh, don't you start," I moaned, burying my face into his chest. "I can't believe you saw that."

Charlie laughed again, his voice brushing over my forehead as he wrapped me in his warm embrace.

"Speaking of which, I heard from a little birdy that chocolate helps …"

I blinked, looking up as he pulled out a bar of Honeydukes chocolate and I felt a small smile tug at the corner of my lips.

"It is your favourite …"

"You remembered?"

"Well, they say that this is the time of the month when a female dragon is even more terrifying than usual," he reasoned.

"Are you likening me to a dragon?" I pouted, "Merlin, and here I was thinking that you were being sweet …"

"It was a _compliment_!" Charlie remarked, smirking against the crook of my neck as he held me closer. "Honestly, do you want the chocolate or not?"

"Of course I do!"

* * *

_The next morning ..._

* * *

Light filtered through the frosted glass of the balcony window as I woke up, feeling completely at ease in the warmth of Charlie's embrace. In fact, now that I thought about it, this was the first time that I had actually spent the night in his bedroom. I pursed my lips, musing over this before my eyes fell on his face. He looked so peaceful, almost god-like as he slept and I giggled.

"What are you laughing about?" he crooned; opening one eye before he quickly caught my lips in a playful series of lazy kisses.

"Oh, nothing," I replied, pulling back if only to breathe as he raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't seem like nothing."

His brown eyes sparkled mischievously as he drew in closer.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Weasley," I retorted, shoving him by his shoulder as he chortled.

"I have _no_ idea what you're on about, Cursebreaker," Charlie hummed, though his gleeful expression suggested otherwise.

I huffed, burying my face into his chest where I could feel the steady drum of his pulse beating against my cheek.

"How's your stomach?" he asked instead, strategically changing the subject as his arms looped their way around my waist. "Any more … uh … pain?"

He tried to make it sound as casual as possible like it was a normal question you'd ask somebody upon waking up.

I shook my head, snickering at his semi-tongue-tied expression.

"That's good," he smiled, seemingly more relieved as he let out a cute yawn. "There's still some leftover Papanași for breakfast if you're interested …"  
I raised an eyebrow, "Doughnuts? For breakfast?"

He nodded.

"Well, I can't say no to doughnuts …"

* * *

"Mornin'," Marius sang, smirking when he saw the two of us come in. "I trust _you_ two had a pleasant night?"

"Oh, shove off," countered Charlie, blushing as the other dragon-keeper let out a snort.

"Operation 'dragon nest' still a go then?" Marius continued with a rather smug look.

I raised an eyebrow, "Operation what?"

"Barb's put me in charge of setting up a new enclosure for one of the Romanian Longhorns," Charlie explained.

"So you're more than free to hang out with me while you're waiting," added Marius with a wink.

Charlie scowled, shooting him a death glare from over my shoulder and the man put his hands up in a show of surrender.

"I was joking, mate. _Seriously_!"

* * *

"You sure you don't need me to lend a hand?" I asked for the fifth time that morning as I watched him work.

"It's all good," Charlie replied, wiping his forehead as he flashed me a reassuring grin. "Besides, aren't women not supposed to lift heavy things when they're on …" he trailed off, cheeks flushing crimson as he averted his gaze and I laughed.

"For Merlin's sake, Charlie, I'm on my _period_, not pregnant," I drawled, folding my arms across my chest rather peevishly as he ran a sheepish hand through his orange hair.

"I just mean that I don't want you to strain yourself, that's all," he mumbled quickly, ears still tinged magenta as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I rolled my eyes, feeling a tiny smile tug at the corner of my lips despite myself as I shook my head.

Today, he was in charge of assembling the last of a new dragon enclosure that would be for a particularly temperamental Romanian Longhorn. It was backbreaking work, even with the assistance of magic, yet Charlie insisted on going through with the task on his own.

At some point between lifting large crates of boulders, the dragon tamer had removed his shirt, displaying his perfectly chiselled physique in all of its glory.

Small droplets of sweat glistened in the morning light as they rolled off his rippling abdominal muscles. I paused, my eyes running down along the curve of his broad shoulders and the scars that crisscrossed over his back and biceps.

It wasn't as if I hadn't since him shirtless before but every time I did I found myself momentarily forgetting how to breathe …

"Uh … earth to Cursebreaker?" Charlie sang, waving a hand over my face that immediately brought me back to reality.

"H-huh?" I blinked, heat rising up my neck as he raised a curious eyebrow.

"Were you checking me out?"

He shuffled forward, leaning in as if the answer were already written over my face. I froze, no doubt blushing an even brighter pink as I immediately averted my eyes.

"Oh my Merlin, you were! You _totally_ were!" His grin widened even more, looking like a jubilant schoolboy who had finally beaten me in a game of Gobstones.

"I … oh, shut up."

* * *

After settling the Romanian Longhorn in its new habitat, Charlie suggested that we visit Norberta before leaving and found her lying in her enclosure on her back, groaning.

Charlie frowned, immediately vaulting over the fence with nimble grace before he made a beeline towards the dragon and I followed suit.

"What's wrong? Is she sick?" I asked as he examined her thoroughly, before letting out a sigh of semi-exasperation.

"Bellyache? Again?" Charlie shook his head, "How many times must I tell you that hedgehogs are _not_ for eating?"

Norberta grumbled, blowing out a plume of smoke as the dragon-keeper bent down to rub her scaly stomach, all of his attention completely absorbed by the Norwegian Ridgeback.

"You reckon she'll be alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, she'll be fine. She does it all the time," he replied, "She eats it, regrets it, complains, then vomits it back up a few hours later."

There was such a fondness in his voice as he spoke that I couldn't help but smile.

"What?" Charlie cocked his head to the side, catching my expression from his peripheral vision.

"Oh, nothing," I hummed, "Just enjoying seeing a wild Charlie Weasley in his natural habitat."

"Oh, ha-ha, you're _hilarious_."

"I know, right?"

He rolled his eyes, a smile dimpling at the corner of his lips as he stood up and took a step towards me. I froze, my back pressed against the railing as he stepped closer, grasping the metal bannister from either side.

His eyes seemed to shine amber, his warm breath tickling over my forehead as he chuckled. He was so close now that I could hear the steady drum of his pulse echoing with my own before he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

I smiled, heart fluttering as I kissed him back. The sweet saltiness of his lips made me weak to my knees, sending my senses into overdrive.

He drew back, a bright smile blooming across his face as he cupped my cheek in the warm, calloused palm of his hand and I felt my face turn crimson under his smouldering gaze.

"Come with me somewhere," he murmured.

"Where?"

He didn't respond, only smiling enigmatically as he took me by the hand and led me out of the sanctuary.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?"  
"Absolutely," Charlie replied, as he placed his hands over my eyes once we'd apparated, acting as a makeshift blindfold.

"You do realise that it's unnecessary when I can just read your mind …"  
"Ah, but that, my dear, would spoil the surprise."

I didn't need to see him, to know that he was grinning from ear-to-ear, clearly enjoying this as he walked me down a sloping hill.

"And if I trip and fall?"

"Oh ye of little faith," he hummed, "The only time I would really let you fall would be for humorous, non-injury related purposes."

I tried to elbow him but he laughed, dodging me with ease whilst simultaneously keeping his hands over my eyes.

"Git," I huffed, "And here I was thinking that you liked me."

"I _do_ like you," he quipped back smoothly, "I just think you being a klutz is funnier."

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself. Our position made walking slightly awkward but he kept his pace slow to match my own. Soon I could hear the faint gurgling of a nearby stream and couldn't help but try and pry his hands away if only for a second.

"Not yet."

I pouted, "Oh, come on …"

I felt his chest rumble with barely contained laughter as he kept his hands stubbornly in place.

"Patience, Love," he crooned.  
_Merlin_, I sighed – he really was enjoying this _way_ too much.

Charlie rested his chin on my shoulder, pressing me against his chest as he eventually stopped walking.

"Okay, now you can open your eyes," he announced, lifting his hands away from my face and I opened my eyes to see that we were standing at the base of a clearing deep in the forest. A waterfall streamed into a ravine, filtering into a crystal clear pool of water that perfectly reflected the sky above.

"Wow, how did you find this place?"

"It's a secret," he replied, nodding proudly as he surveyed the scene.

I raised a curious eyebrow, "Seriously? Another secret? What's with all the mystery today?"

He smiled, patting a spot next to him on the large blanket that had magically appeared on the riverbank, along with a picnic basket and cushions.

"Did you do this all … for me?"

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears tinging pink as I sat down.

"Do … you like it?" he asked, coughing into his fist as I shuffled in closer.

I nodded. "How did you find the time to prepare all of this, though?"

"I may have had some help from some of the people back at the Dragon Sanctuary," Charlie admitted as began to pull out various foods: freshly baked pastries, cured meats and cheese – the basket seemed to be never-ending.

"Ah, of _course_." I replied, realising it now, "Operation _'dragon nest'_."

I pursed my lips as I thought back to when we'd arrived at the sanctuary this morning. It seemed so obvious now. I had assumed that Marius was talking about the new dragon enclosure that Charlie was building, but clearly, he'd been in on Charlie's super-secret surprise date from the start.

"I hope you're not too mad," he murmured, "I just wanted to make …"  
"It special?" I finished his sentence for him  
He blushed, running a hand through his orange hair, "Well, that's what romance is supposed to be about innit? Grand gestures and all …"  
I raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

He paused, eyes widening. "Do you not like that?"

"No, I do," I replied quickly, folding my hands over his own to reassure him. "I love it. But I don't need any grand gestures, Charlie. For me, just being with you is enough to make these moments special."

Charlie blinked, staring at me in a dumbfounded silence before a brilliant smile blossomed across his face.

"You really think that?"

I nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Absolutely."

* * *

_Aww, wasn't that sweet? I've been dying from internet deprivation but writing fluff always helps. _

_Don't forget to review, favourite and follow!_

_Yours truly,_

_Sword Gold. _


	12. Chapter 11

_Hello! _

_With everything across the world currently on lock-down, I (along with the rest of you) have been going mental from boredom. Don't get me wrong - I love being able to sleep in and lounge around (I'm a bit of a human house cat, really) but despite my laziness, I also happen to have ADHD meaning that my brain is like a buzzing hive of constant hyperactivity. With that being said, I hope that you are all staying safe and enjoy this chapter courtesy of me. And remember, these times filled with fear and uncertainty, but together, we can overcome anything. Well, when I say 'together', I don't mean being physically together, seeing as we are all in social isolation at the moment but you get my drift right? _

_Be well, stay safe and most importantly stay__ strong.\- S.G._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter_

* * *

**A Count, a Legend and a Bird-Brain**

* * *

"Blimey, it's _way_ more crowded than it was when I first came here," Charlie murmured as we walked out along the cobblestone streets that led up towards the famous Bran Castle the next morning.

Crowded was an understatement. The streets were practically bursting at the seams with tourist among tourist. Vampire themed shops bordered the bustling street with merchandise, from fake blood to _'I Saw Dracula' _t-shirts and people roamed the streets dressed in vampire costumes in various degrees of authenticity. It was like a Halloween themed amusement park, or, perhaps a _'Dracula' _themed version of Diagon Alley. We roamed through the streets, hand-in-hand as we passed people selling blood flavoured candy and necklaces of pickled garlic cloves until we finally reached the grand gates of the famous castle where a guide in full costume promptly greeted us with a fanged smile.

"Velcome!" beamed the tourist guide, fake fangs shining as he ushered us forward, "to zee most haunted place in zee world! Everybody please take a clove of garlic, and enjoy the tour. Here you go my darling."

"This is … weird," I frowned as a clove of garlic was pressed into my hand. "Maybe we should've brought a stake …"

"Don't worry, Love," Charlie crooned, "I'll protect you."  
"Alright, I'm counting on you!" I replied, snickering as he puffed out his chest before linking his arm with mine.

"I am Count Dimer and today I shall be your very own guide into zee unknown!" the tourist guide announced, hands flying dramatically through the air as he greeted each of his guests.

* * *

The 'haunted' castle was full of impressive muggle jump scares, from fake vampires to creepy spider-like bats that fell from the ceiling.

"'Old tightly to your loved ones in dis section," the Count warned jokingly as we reached a long winding corridor, "People 'ave been known to vanish in din air down des 'alls!"

He waved his hands for dramatic effect as adults chuckled and children grabbed onto their parents' sleeves as I looked around to realise that Charlie was nowhere to be seen. Surely he couldn't have gotten far, I mused to myself, leaving the group to backtrack the way we'd come.

Part of me wondered whether it was because the architecture looked so much like the buried vault, which only heightened my anxiety as I frantically began to search for him. I had just passed by one of the cellars around the corner when somebody pulled me inside. Before I could even scream I felt myself being pressed against Charlie's chest, his hot breath fanning over my forehead.  
"Char …"  
He silenced me with his lips on my own, kissing me so powerfully as if he were trying to draw all the air from my lungs. I gasped, my legs sliding down the wall of the wine cellar as I melted into his embrace. Charlie held me by my waist while he cupped the back of my head, deepening the kiss. It was only when I thought that I might pass out from a lack of oxygen did he finally stop to gaze down at me.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice like velvet as he caressed my cheek.

I pushed lightly at his chest, "You … we're in … a public place."

Charlie smiled, holding me even more tightly as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Don't care," he said. His voice tickled my ear, lighting a fire in the depths of my core.

"But that's not the …"

He kissed me again before I could finish my sentence and, with his tongue teasing over my lips I knew that I was a goner.

"Why did you disappear all of a sudden?" I asked once he finally drew away with a smirk.

"What? Were you scared?" he teased.

"You wish," I scoffed, "I was just worried that you'd get yourself lost in the vampire chamber that's all …"

"Well, speaking of that …" Charlie grinned, running a series of kisses along my neck before he grazed his teeth across my jugular, earning a loud gasp from me.

"_Charlie_!" I hissed, eyes wide as I examined the pink crescent that his lips had made at the base of my throat in the bottle reflections.

"You … you … look at what you've done!"

"I'm sorry," he apologised, though the twinkle of his eyes suggested otherwise while he admired his handiwork, "I suppose I got too caught up with the Dracula Legend …"

I scoffed, shoving his face away as he waggled his eyebrows.  
"You, _prat_."

* * *

"Don't tell me that you're still mad?" Charlie murmured with a raised eyebrow when we got home that afternoon, "It's not like I _meant_ to leave a mark …"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah? Well, be glad that I'm talented enough to cover it up."

"What, didn't you like it?" Charlie hummed in a way that said that he knew exactly how I felt, "Personally, I think I preferred it when it was more visible …"

I could feel him smirking against my skin as he nestled his lips into the crook of my neck where he had previously left the said mark.

"Of course _you_ would," I retorted, fighting the urge to let out a groan as I felt him nibble at my nape. "You're the one who did it in the first place. And I swear if you leave another hickey on my neck I'll _curse_ those lips of yours off."

He chuckled, his voice sending pleasant tingles down my spine as he hugged me from behind.

"You didn't answer my question though."

Oh_, Merlin_.

An owl that swooped through the open window and dropped an envelope on my lap saved me from our conversation. I caught it, unfolding the letter to the scribbly cursive that belonged to Nymphadora Tonks.

_Wotcher Bethany! _

_Don't freak out; I swear I haven't been stalking you or anything. Bill mentioned that you and Charlie were having a little one-on-one in Romania (if you get my drift), and though I'm not surprised, a little heads up would have been nice! _

_Now, you know that I'm the __last__ person who would want to spoil your precious 'snogging-time' but Winger hasn't come in for a month now. I tried tracking him and all, but you know Talbott – he knows how to … well, disappear. _

_And before you say that he likes to "fly solo" I'm honestly getting pretty worried. We're supposed to be working a case together you see, and, although I __am__ a pretty excellent auror if I do say so myself, I don't think that I'll be able to pull this one off on time and it absolutely __must__ be solved ASAP (that's how you use it … right?) _

_Anyway, if you happen to find him can you tell him to bring his bird arse back to the office? Or even better – you can drag him here! _

_I would do it myself, but as you know I've lost his trail, (not to mention I still have a __mountain__ load of paperwork to get through). _

_So yeah, enjoy your date and let me know if you manage to catch that birdbrain of ours, yeah? _

_Love, _

_Tonks _

_P.S: Oh yeah, tell Weasley that he still owes me a Butterbeer for that 'operation' of his. (I don't give out information for free ya know?)_

_P.P.S: Did he do the waterfall picnic thing? I swear if he didn't, I'll come over there and smite him myself!_

I raised an eyebrow, "So Tonks was in on it too? Any particular titbits of information I should know about?"

"God damn it, She wasn't supposed to say anything," he muttered, his face blushing beetroot as I rolled my eyes.

I should have known: the blindfolding thing had Tonks written all over it.

"You're not mad at me are you?" Charlie asked somewhat tentatively, looking like a guilty Crup pup as he sought my gaze.

I pursed my lips, thinking it over before I felt myself cave in with a sigh of semi-humoured exasperation.

"No, I'm not mad."

* * *

We sat in silence, our shoulders touching one another as Charlie read through the letter once more.

"You don't think this is like what happened with Bertha Jorkins, do you?" Charlie asked.

"Merlin, I hope not," I bit my lip, shaking my hair out from its loose ponytail as I mused over the possibility.

It was true; I had considered it, but Talbott was an auror. He was as meticulous as he was gifted. I couldn't imagine him simply disappearing or 'getting lost' as Ludo Bagman had put it, not without a reason.

I remembered the last time I'd seen him, mentally beating up himself for almost losing his parents' necklace – for not doing more when he had the chance.

_No, _I shook my head, eyes widening as a sudden thought occurred to me.

_He wouldn't do that though_ … _right? _

"Bethany?" Charlie frowned, "What is it?"

I leapt up, grabbing my wand.

"We need to go; _now_."

* * *

_Ooh, slight cliff-hanger! _

_Remember to comment, favourite and follow! - S.G. _


	13. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters_

* * *

**Birds of a Feather**

* * *

"Talbott, wait!" I cried, grabbing him by the sleeve of his jacket before he could transform or disapparate as we reached the very edge of the Malfoys' estate.

"You shouldn't be here," grunted Talbott, a steely look in his eyes as he shook me off.

"Well neither should you, mate," Charlie pointed out, "Please tell me you _weren't_ planning on barging in on the Malfoys …"

Talbott scowled. "That's none of your business, Weasley."

"We're your _friends_, Talbott," I replied, "So yes, that _does_ make it our business."  
"See? This is exactly why I fly solo," he griped, holding the bridge of his nose as he let out an exasperated sigh.

"And how would storming Malfoy Manor on your own pan out exactly?" asked Charlie.

"I … you guys wouldn't understand. They were there at the World Cup. They're Death Eaters! I … I just know it, alright?"

"I know, but we need _proof_," I reasoned.

"Yeah, auror or not, you can't just break into somebody's house …"

"Then let me go in and find some!" hissed the auror. "I'll fly in and out before anybody notices."

"And if they do?" I asked, "Is it _really_ worth losing your job or ending up in _Azkaban_?"

Talbott paused, averting his gaze.

"Look, mate, you're probably right about the Malfoys," said Charlie, "My Dad reckons they were a part of You-Know-Who's inner circle, but without tangible proof, it's your word against theirs, and they have galleons to back them up."

"Or to _cover_ things up," Talbott muttered, his hands trembling as he clenched his wand.

"Talbott, _please_," I said, folding my hand over his wand-hand and squeezing it tightly. "Don't do this. If not for us then at _least_ for your parents."

He didn't respond.

"Do it for your parents … for me."

"I … fine." Talbott sighed, lowering his wand. "But really; using the friendship _and _the parent card of all things," the auror drawled, "That's low, Cursebreaker, even for you."

I shrugged, "As long as it keeps you from getting yourself _killed_, Winger."

Talbott raised an eyebrow, "Oh? And what if I decide that I don't want to be friends?"

"Tough luck."

Charlie shook his head, clapping Talbott on the back.

"Welcome to my world, buddy."

* * *

"You realise that I could've handled it on my own," Talbott grumbled as we stepped out into an alleyway by an overflowing dumpster where the old red telephone box stood against the graffitied wall.

"What? And have you go and disappear on us for another month? Not. A. Chance," replied Charlie, "Though, I do have to admit that I am _not_ a fan of this Visitor's Entrance," he remarked as he kicked at a stray piece of garbage, "I swear to Merlin that I've probably worked in _dragon_ stables that were cleaner than this …"

"Oh, well, in _that_ case, I'll just be on my way then …" started Talbott.

"Not so fast, Winger," I said, pulling him back before he could slip away. "We promised Tonks that we'd bring you back to the office."

"Seriously?"  
"I believe '_drag you back by your bird arse' _were the words that she used," nodded Charlie.

"Oh, _bloody _hell," Talbott blanched slightly before pinching his nose with a semi-exasperated sigh of defeat.

"Alright then. Whatever you say," he relented. "But, just to let you know I really _am_ starting to question being mates with you lot."

* * *

Green flames swirled around us as we each stumbled out of one of the many glided fireplaces the dark wooden panelled walls. The peacock blue ceiling above gleamed with inlaid symbols, sparkling golden in celestial flickers of light; constantly moving like some ever-changing heavenly noticeboard. Halfway down the hall was a fountain stood a group of larger than life golden statues at the middle of its rippling pool. The tallest of them was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing skywards. Grouped around him were a beautifully slender witch, a muscular centaur, a sharp-eyed goblin and a meek-looking house-elf. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water added to the pops and cracks of Apparators as well as the clatter of footsteps echoing against cool marble as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing sleep-deprived looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

"I'll _never_ get used to that," Talbott shuddered, running his fingers through his slick back hair like a preening bird as he ducked out of a nearby grate.

"Which guy in the Department of Magical Transportation do you reckon figured it'll be a good idea to use public toilets as an entryway of all things?" Charlie mused aloud, shaking his head as he brushed soot off his leather jacket: five years studying dragons in Romania and, out of _all_ the strange (and sometimes downright disturbing) things that he'd, Charlie had never once had to actually step _into_ a toilet bowl before.

Talbott shrugged, "Apparently they thought it'd be a good way to uphold the Statute of Secrecy."

I raised an eyebrow. I honestly didn't see how that upheld _anything_ but raise concerns for public hygiene but I decided not to comment. Every few seconds another witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh, and, on the right-hand side, short queues were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart.  
"Outta the way! Cauldrons' coming through 'ere!" A lady came through one of the grates behind us carrying a tall load of burnt-out cauldrons, teetering on the edge of falling and we quickly leapt out of the way.

We joined the throng, zigzagging our way between various Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases, still, others were reading the Daily Prophet as they walked.

Silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinted up at us from the bottom of the fountain as we passed, a small smudged sign beside that read:

_All proceeds from the fountain of magical brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_.

I automatically grabbed for my wallet only to find that I had, of course, left it behind.

_Next time, I'll put in ten Galleons_. I vowed to myself. Jostled slightly by the crowd, the three of us went through the gates into a slightly smaller (but no less impressive) hall, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. "You better not try to fly off without us," I reminded Talbott as we joined the crowd around one of them. Nearby, stood a beer-bellied bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box that was emitting loud rasping noises.

"Is that a _dragon_ in there?" asked Charlie, eyes wide with excitement.

"What? Nah, 'course not," said the wizard before frowning "Have we met before? You look awfully familiar …"

His bushy eyebrows seemed to furrow together as he looked over the Weasley before he grinned. "Ah, I know! You're one of Arthur's boys, aren't you? Orange hair and all … the name's Bob," He tucked the box that was now starting to exude smoke under his arm as he shook Charlie's hand with his other.

"Nice to meet you, Bob, I'm Charlie."

The man's grin only widened, "So _you're_ the one that works with dragons?"

Charlie nodded.

"Brilliant!" beamed the wizard, "Always wanted to work with dragons. Never had the stomach for it though …"

"So, if it's not a dragon, then what _is_ in that box?"

"Not sure yet," replied the wizard seriously. "We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing _fire_ of all things. Looks like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding to me."

With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of us; the golden grate slid back and we all stepped into the lift with the rest of the crowd and I found myself jammed against between Charlie and the back wall. Several witches and wizards were now looking at us curiously. Charlie joked whether they'd ever seen a dragon-tamer without a dragon but I secretly knew it was because of me. It wasn't every day that people saw the Head Cursebreaker of Gringotts marching into the Ministry of Magic after all. I blushed, pressing my face into the back of Charlie's jacket to avoid catching anyone's eye. The grilles slid shut with a clang before the lift lurched, chains rattling, while a cool female voice rang out overhead:

"Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office."

The lift doors opened; I glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of grinning Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls. One of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomstick managed to extricate his way out with great difficulty before soon disappearing down the said hallway. The doors closed, the lift juddered upwards again and the woman's voice announced:

"Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre."

Once again the lift doors opened and a gaggle of witches stepped out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift. Charlie stared up at them as they flapped idly around above his head; they were a pale violet colour and I could see the MINISTRY OF MAGIC stamped along the folds of their wings.

"Just inter-departmental memos," Talbott explained. "I personally preferred the owls they used to use, but the mess was unbelievable … dropping all over the desks …"

The memos flapped around the lamp swaying from the ceiling as the lift shot to the side.

"Level Five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the Internal Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards; British Seats."

When the doors opened, three of the five memos zoomed out with a few more passengers but even more, memos soon zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp now flickered and flashed overhead as they darted around it like fairies.

"Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau."

"Well that would be me," said the wizard carrying the fire-breathing chicken. "Say hello to your dad when you see him." He left the lift pursued by a little flock of flying memos.

The doors clanged shut yet again.

"Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee."

Almost everybody left the lift on this floor except me, Charlie, Talbott and a witch who seemed to be thoroughly captivated by the extremely long piece of parchment she was reading that trailed onto the floor. Two remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift jutted upwards again before the doors opened and the voice made its announcement.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

"Finally, it's about time," said Talbott as we followed the witch out of the lift into a long emerald tiled corridor lined with black doors.

"Huh, Dad's office is on the other side of the floor," Charlie said, eyes bright with memories.

"Why don't you guys go see him then?" Talbott suggested, "No need to escort me all the way …"  
"Ha-ha, nice try but we're not letting you off," I replied.

* * *

We turned a corner, a pair of heavy oak doors opening and emerged into a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which were buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos zoomed in and out like miniature rockets and a lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read AUROR HEADQUARTERS.

I looked surreptitiously through the doorways as we passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything, from pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and cut-outs of articles from the Daily Prophet.

"Well, would we look at what the bird dragged in," chirped a vibrant voice. Tonks was sitting with her boots up on her desk, apparently mid dictating a report to her quill.

"Wait, no, don't write _that_!" she batted the quill away as it crossed out a few sentences before she jumped up to greet us.

"I _knew_ you'd come through!" grinned the witch, her vibrantly purple curls bouncing on end as she squeezed us in a tight embrace. "Six years and you've never once let me down!" She turned to Talbott, "But _you, on the other hand,_ have some nerve, Winger: vanishing like that in the middle of a crisis when you know we've still got a case to finish!"

"I was … following a lead," said Talbott.

"Following a lead for a month? What do you take me for? A Plimpy?" Tonks shook her head. "Really though, next time at least ruddy let me know where you're going before you jet off like that again, yeah? You're lucky that I'm not Mad-Eye."

"Speaking of Mad-Eye, have you heard how he's doing at Hogwarts?" asked Charlie.

"Nah, I've been completely _swamped_ with paperwork that _Bird-Brain_ over here was supposed to sort out."  
Talbott blushed, "Yeah, yeah, I already got the lecture …"

Tonks rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself as the other auror went to his cubicle.

"I mean the man hasn't strangled a kid or anything so I'm assuming he's going fine …"

"He performed Unforgivable Curses in front of minors though," said a scarlet-robed man with a long ponytail as he sipped a mug of what was either Butterbeer or Firewhiskey disguised as tea.

"Yeah, but you know Mad-Eye. Always teaching on his toes – constant vigilance and what-not," reasoned Tonks.

"I don't know," replied the wizard, "I certainly wouldn't have hired him to teach a bunch of teenagers if I were Dumbledore …"

"Alastor Moody is one of the most accomplished Aurors of his generation," came a voice that belonged to a burly bronze-skinned middle-aged wizard in purple robes. "We Aurors could learn a few things from the man: he filled most of Azkaban with the dark wizards he's caught, after all."

The other wizard scoffed, "Course you'd be a fan of his, Shacklebolt. You were one of his students."

"And very proud of it," the wizard named Shacklebolt responded smoothly.

"Oi, he trained me too, remember Kingsley?" piped Tonks.

"You must be the Head Cursebreaker at Gringotts," Kingsley Shacklebolt regarded me with an incline of his bald head. "I heard a lot of impressive things about you from your time at Hogwarts. Your reputation truly precedes you."

"That's one way of looking at it," I nodded as I shook his outstretched hand.

"You staying long?" asked Tonks, "Wanna get lunch? I'm bloody starving, haven't had anything for …" she glanced at her watch. "… Four hours? No wonder I can't concentrate!"

"Tonks, you can't concentrate on anything, Period," Charlie pointed out.

"Hey!" Tonks baulked, "I'll have you know that I am _plenty_ good at concentrating on things …"

"Like food?" drawled Talbott.

"_Exactly_!" said Tonks, "Like food! Let's go!"

* * *

Tonks took us to a small muggle pub a few blocks away.

"Uh, Tonks? Are you sure this is the amazing place that you wanted to take us to?" asked Charlie for the fifth time.

"Yep, this is the place," nodded Tonks, "Trust me, Weasley. This here is one of London's hidden _gems_."

"Well, it certainly is hidden, that's for sure."

Charlie cast a doubtful look at the weedy looking pub as we shouldered our way through the creaking door.

"Ah, _Dora_!" a man appeared behind the dingy bar, grinning as soon as he saw us.

"Anatoly!" Tonks grinned. "Is Annika here?"

"Round the back," the man replied, "She's still trying to figure out how you did that last card trick. Annika! She's back!"

"Oh, _finally_," a girl came out from the kitchen, her black hair tied up in a sleek ponytail. "I was wondering when you'd come, and I see you've brought actual _friends_ no less." She seemed to look Charlie up and down.

"Sorry, my mate Charlie here is taken."

"Ah, they together?" she gestured to the two of us. "I should've known. I _love_ the new hair by the way. Where did you get it done?"

"Oi, _Nika_! I pay you to serve _tables_ not stand around talking about hair products!"

"_Yes,_ Papa," The teenager rolled her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she gestured for us to sit. "Should I get you the usual then?"

"You know it," grinned Tonks.

"Alright. I'll add an extra serving if you show me that wicked card trick again …"

"Annika, how long it takes to serve table, eh?"

"I'm giving them the menus!" she called back. "_Mudak_."

She winked at us before she disappeared back behind the bar.

Charlie frowned, "My Russian isn't the best but did she just call her dad a …"

"Shit-head?" asked Tonks, "Yep."

* * *

_After reading your reviews I realised that I should probably explain how Bethany figured out that Talbott would be at the Malfoys. As you already know, Jacob's sibling is a Legilimens meaning that she has the ability not only to interpret other people's thoughts but as, like her brother, is extremely gifted, has the ability to also dive into people's minds from an unknown distance. An example of this is during Years One, Two and Three where Jacob uses Legilimency to communicate with his sister in the form of visions. _

_Furthermore, in a previous draft of the story, I had Talbott previously going on a mission that went wrong, but, after writing about him running when the Death Eaters attacked the campsite, I realised that it would be much more realistic for him to open his own investigation on the side (much like our character's mentioned investigation into 'R' after her brother's death) but into the possible identities of Death Eaters who were still at large - sort of like his own personal vendetta, seeing as Death Eaters murdered both of his parents. _

_So in summary, dear Talbott has been spending the last few months virtually stalking anybody who he has strong suspicions about being a Death Eater, and, Bethany realises this because of the way that Talbott left their last conversation before he flew off. _

_Anyway, I hope that makes sense. __Enjoy it? Review, follow and favourite!_

_Yours truly,_

_Sword Gold_


	14. Chapter 13

_Hi again! _

_Being stuck under quarantine has definitely been a test of patience for me along with a lot of other people. Luckily though, seeing as my university still hasn't put up any course content online (despite it being the 21st century I might add), I've been able to devote more time to writing. _

_I should probably add to be consistent with the Goblet of Fire timeline that everything that has happened so far has been spaced between what happened in the First Task and the Second Tournament task. I didn't mention it before because there was no mention of Charlie being at the Second Tournament task but I realised that I probably should for clarification on dates and whatnot. _

_Please don't forget to follow, favourite and review! (I really love hearing what you guys have to say). Oh, and stay safe! _

_Hope you enjoy! - S.G. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. I am not nearly talented enough for that ..._

* * *

**Cards, Compromises and Cushions**

* * *

It wasn't long until our dishes arrived. First, came three plates of Pelmeni – small Russian meat dumplings wrapped in thin unleavened dough. The consistency of the hot meaty filling gave it a taste that was somewhere in-between a ravioli and a Cantonese wonton, not unlike one of my favourite Polish dishes, Pierogi.

Then came three tall tankards of what looked very similar to Butterbeer.

"It's called mead," Tonks explained, sloshing the honey-coloured liquid all over the front of her leather jacket between slurps. "What's it's called in Russian again? Meda-voo-coo? Voo-kee? I can't pronounce it …"

"It's called _Medovukha_," replied Annika as she refilled Tonks' glass. "Sweet, honey wine. Try it."

The translucent coloured drink glinted amber under the lights of the dimly lit pub as I brought the glass to my lips. The initially delicate honey flavour danced in my mouth soon followed by the semi-sweet dryness of a taste that was distinctively thick and yeasty.

"Well, it's definitely _not_ Butterbeer."

Charlie followed suit, recoiling slightly at the aftertaste.  
The waitress cocked an eyebrow, perplexed "What is this 'Butter-beer' you speak of?"

Tonks spluttered on her mead, spilling its contents for the second time that afternoon. "Oh, it's um … uh … well …"  
"He meant to say Butter_bur_," I added hastily, "You know, the herbal supplement?"

"_Akh_, The one my father uses for stomach ulcers? I have never tried it myself, but I would hope that it tastes better than _that_."

"Course it does, Annika!" Tonks replied, "Weasley here's just a wimp when it comes to alcohol …"

It was only when the girl had gone to fetch another course did we all simultaneously let out heavy sighs of relief.

"That was close."

* * *

The rest of the pub was relatively empty, proving Tonks' theory that this place was indeed one of London's hidden 'gems', which allowed us to talk undisturbed without the risk of being overheard.

The first subject that Tonks immediately brought up was, of course, what she had coined our 'Romanian rendezvous', earning a splutter from me and an embarrassed cough from Charlie who quickly changed the subject to the most recent news that was the Triwizard Tournament.

"Ooh, did you see it?" Tonks asked, her attention successfully captured enough to momentarily drop her teasing, "I missed out on the first task because of all the bloody paperwork that I've had to do," she pouted, "But I managed to sneak out of the office to watch the second task down at the Black Lake. We couldn't see much. I suppose most of the action was happening under the water, though some of the transfigurations that those contestants used were pretty impressive. Diggory and that prissy blonde-haired witch both used Bubblehead charms and Harry; you'll never believe what he used. He used Gillyweed! I suppose he must have nicked some from Snape's personal cabinet – gave him gills and everything! Oh and the other guy … you know … the grumpy one … what's his name again? Crumbs … Crup?"

"Krum," Charlie corrected her, "Viktor _Krum_."

"That's the one!" beamed Tonks, "He used some sort of Animagus transfiguration. Not a proper one mind you, it only half-worked – turned him into some half-shark-man-thing. It looked bloody weird, and that's coming from me! Ooh, speaking of which I can show you if you like …"

"What? No, Tonks, not _here_." I spluttered on my drink, "There are _muggles_."

"Oh right, sorry, I forgot," she apologised, running a sheepish hand through her vibrant pink hair. "Anyway, I've always wondered what meeting Harry Potter in person would be like," Tonks wondered wistfully before her eyes widened. "Wait a minute, you guys have actually met him haven't you?"

"A handful of times, yeah," nodded Charlie.

"Well, what's he like then?" She asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

"He's nice, polite, a bit shy … just like any other kid, you know?" Charlie replied, shrugging nonchalantly, "Though I've got to admit that his Seeker skills are definitely something to behold …"

"Reminds me of another certain somebody at that age," I chimed, giving the dragon-tamer a gentle nudge.

"I wasn't _that_ good," he murmured, the tips of his ears tinging pink as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, purr-_lease_," exclaimed Tonks, accidentally knocking over her glass with her wild gesticulations. "You were like a Quidditch prodigy! Almost everybody thought you'd start playing professionally for sure …"

"Shh, not so loud," he hissed, blushing beetroot as I wiped up the spilt beer.

Tonks shrugged, ignoring him as she reached over the table to steal a drag from Charlie's mead instead.

"Hey, Annika! Want to see another trick?"

"Can I?" The girl beamed, her eyes shining with anticipation as she hurried over with an empty tray rested on her hip. I never saw Tonks remove anything from her pocket but, with a small flick of her wrist, a deck of playing cards appeared in her outstretched palm, almost as if by magic. The waitress' eyes widened from the sight, still easily awed by the seemingly professional sleight of hand prowess as I shook my head, smiling despite myself.

_Classic Tonks. _

"Show off," Charlie coughed into his fist.

"You're just jealous of my _legendary_ skills," Tonks waggled her eyebrows at him, who only rolled his eyes in response.

Tonks turned her attention back to the muggle waitress, almost knocking her plate of food off the table as she used a rapid dynamo shuffling technique before fanning them out in a single sweep.

"Now, pick a card. Any card!" Tonks brandished her hands dramatically like a circus performer as she gestured towards the deck of cards. "After you do, remember to show my friends but don't show me, alright?"

Annika raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd do something better than that whole 'pick a card' trick," she said, puckering her lips as she picked a card at random – the Six of Spades.

"Just wait and see," Tonks grinned, "It's like the saying goes: good things happen to those who wait. My mum says it all the time, but that's probably because I'm so _bloody_ impatient."  
She gave the girl a cheeky wink before she continued. "Turn it so the back of the card is facing you and, here's the most important part, you have to look directly into my eyes as I perform the trick."

Annika complied, hurriedly abandoning her empty tray as she sat to maintain eye contact. Tonks gently tapped the card with her index finger.

"Alright, now turn it around!"

Rotating her wrist, the girl's eyes grew wide when she managed to pull her gaze away from Tonks' to look at the card. What had originally been the Six of Spades had miraculously turned into the Joker.

"_Bozhe moy_!" she exclaimed, eyes shining with pure wonder, "How … how did you _do _that?"

"Sorry, but a good magician never gives away her tricks," replied Tonks.

"_Akh_, not even for a free dessert?" asked the waitress.

"Oi, Nika! You better not be giving away free food again …" the manager called out from the kitchens before either of us could respond.

"O_ Bozhe_, I was only joking, Papa!" the young waitress rolled her eyes before turning back to Tonks. "But seriously, how did you …"  
"Annika! What you doing sitting down for eh? These dishes won't wash themselves …"

"_Akh_, I'm _coming_, I'm coming!"

"You know that was _awfully_ cheeky of you Tonks," Charlie shook his head after the waitress had left with our dirty dishes, "Using magic like that. If somebody had realised …"

"Merlin, since when did _you_ become such a stiff?" Tonks wrinkled her nose, "You're beginning to sound like Winger …"

"Still," I replied, "Charlie does have a point. Showing off is one thing but things could spiral out of control if you're not careful."

"I'm not showing off, and besides, I am careful!"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, "Nymphadora Tonks, you are _literally _the clumsiest person in existence."

"Bollocks, I'm _super_ careful and _don't_ call me _Nymphadora_," she reached over to whack him across the head, only to knock over the remaining contents of his mead tankard with her elbow.

"See what I mean?"

* * *

After having our fill of Mead and Pelmeni, we all went for a nice stroll around the city with Tonks pointing out all the interesting muggle attractions along the way. The weather was briskly refreshing; not like its usual characteristic drizzle as the London fog settled over the medieval cathedral spires.  
"Next time I'll take you guys to an even better place," Tonks promised, tripping over a crack in the pavement before she glanced down at her watch.

"Ah, _crap_," she swore; the church bells chiming as tossed her head back with a groan, "Two o'clock already? Merlin's _balls_ I'm late! Kingsley will bloody _murder_ me if I miss another one of those meetings …"

"Well we wouldn't want that, would we?" I smirked, "Besides, we should probably get going anyway – Brina's probably dying from boredom on her own."

"And I still have an evening shift at the Sanctuary tonight," added Charlie.

"You sure you guys don't need directions?"

"Oh _please_," Charlie rolled his eyes, "Not _everybody_ has a knack for getting lost like _you_, Tonks."  
"How _dare_ you," Tonks gasped, feigning shock as she clasped her hand over her chest. "I'll have you know that I haven't gotten lost for a solid week!"

Charlie snorted.

Tonks stuck her tongue out. "Take care of yourself though, yeah?"

"You too," I smiled, embracing the auror one last time before she pulled away with a wink before she turned and disapparated on the spot.

* * *

"Why hello there," Bill chimed, "Didn't think I'd be seeing _you_ two till next _Christmas_ …"

The Weasley waggled an eyebrow towards his younger brother.

"Oh shove _off_, it's only been a few months at most," Charlie scowled.

Bill snorted, snickering at his brother's expression before he turned to face me.

"So what are you doing at Gringotts? Miss me _that_ much did you?"  
I raised an eyebrow.

"As your _boss_, I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," I quipped, "Anyway, I only dropped in to see if there were any documents that needed signing."

"You _wound_ me, Bethany," said Bill, jokingly feigning a slight pout as we gathered around his desk. "Oh, speaking of wounds, Griphook came by yesterday wanting to talk to you," he added conversationally, "Something about making a compromise?"

I rolled my eyes, "Tell him that the only compromise he's getting is I won't _report _him to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures if he does what I tell him to do."

"Alright, but he won't be too happy about it …"

"Eh, I can live with that," I shrugged, "Are these all the documents?"  
"All the ones that need your signature," nodded the curse-breaker.

"Awesome," I said, dipping one of his quills in some nearby ink before I read through the fine print and signed them off whilst they levitated in thin air.

"I suppose you guys are running off to Romania again?" guessed Bill.

"Pretty much," I nodded, "You sure you can keep holding down the fort while I'm gone?"

"'Course I can," Bill insisted, "Now, go; have fun! Oh, and Charlie?" he called back out from down the hallway.  
"Yeah?"

"Don't forget to use protection!"

Charlie's cheeks flushed the brightest so far.

* * *

_4:00 p.m._

* * *

Sabrina was meowing at the front door when we arrived back in Romania that afternoon.

"Poor 'Brina, did you miss us?" I cooed, bending over to pick her up as she rubbed herself against my cheek. "Merlin, you must have been so lonely …"

"Lonely enough to tear up all the cushions," noted Charlie, gesturing to the feathered mess of what little remained of his couch cushions in the living room as I let her down.

"What? Sabrina, how could you?" I reprimanded the guilty cat, "Just because there's no house-elf to annoy in this house doesn't mean that you get to ruin Charlie's furniture."

Sabrina meowed, cocking her head innocently to the side as she looked up at us with her large green eyes.

I shook my head, "You're unbelievable," I muttered, apologising to Charlie while we each took turns repairing the torn cushions with our wands.

"It's alright, they've probably survived worse with the dragons I used to raise in here."  
I raised an eyebrow, "You used to raise dragons in your living room?"

"Until they nearly burnt the house down," Charlie nodded, "speaking of which I should probably get ready for my night shift at the Sanctuary …"

"Promise to be back by ten?"  
Charlie smiled, leaning over the couch to press a kiss to my lips, "For you? I'll be back by nine."

* * *

_12:00 a.m._

* * *

"I know you're awake," Charlie murmured, his voice tickling the back of my neck as he climbed onto his side of the mattress.

I ignored him, keeping my eyes shut as I rolled away in the opposite direction.

"Oh come on, love, don't be like that," he pouted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against my throat and smiling when I let out an unintentional groan.

Charlie chuckled as he wrapped his arms around my torso.

"You're late," I replied, eventually snuggling into the warmth that he provided.

"I know, I'm sorry," he apologised, running his hand up my inner thigh until he was tracing the hem of my nightgown.

"Sorry doesn't change anything," I quipped back.

"Maybe," he agreed, "But now that I'm here I can make it up to you … if that's what you _want_, that is," Charlie added in a low purr, causing my heart to skip a beat as he buried his chin into the crook of my neck where he could no doubt feel my racing pulse.

Da-_dum_, da-_dum, _da-_dum_, da-_dum … _

Merlin's _beard_ – it was then that I decided that this boy was almost _definitely_ going to be the end of me.

* * *

_Now, I will not pretend to be fluent at speaking (or writing) in Russian, but these are the approximate translations for the following phrases that I've used so far __(Most are exclamatory phrases like 'Blimey!' or 'Oh my God'):_

_Mudak – shithead_

_Bozhe moy – my goodness!_

_O moy Bog – oh my god!_

_Akh – Ah_

_Yes, I took some inspiration from George and Fred performing card tricks for muggle girls. Mainly because I felt that it suited Tonks' personality and, seeing as she couldn't perform her usual Metamorphosing tricks for a muggle I figured that using a bit of magic in a sleight of hand would work without being overtly obvious. Anyway, w__hat did you guys think? Let me know in your reviews! _

_Yours truly,_

_Sword Gold. _


	15. Chapter 14

_Hi again!  
I hope that you've all been safe during this time of great uncertainty. To cheer you up, I thought that I'd finish posting the last couple of chapters of 'the Cursebreaker and the Goblet of Fire'. Can you believe that we're up to Chapter 14 already? Blimey, the time sure has flown passed. _

_Don't forget to follow, favourite and review! (Reviews are better than pancakes, lol) _

_Hope you enjoy! - S.G.  
_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. I just use that world to escape from time-to-time ... _

* * *

**Pancakes and Nightmares**

* * *

"I won't let you hurt them!"  
The wind howled as I ducked, Rakepick's curse obliterating the nearby mound of rocks where I had been standing mere seconds ago.

"Hiding?" her taunting voice echoed against the obsidian cliffside with the roaring of crashing waves as she let out a vigorous cackle. "Not much of a Curse-breaker, are you?"

My heart pounded against my ribcage as I pressed my back against the rocks, fear and anger coursing simultaneously through my veins like fire and ice.

"_Defodio_!"

Her next spell gouged a chunk of rock from the cliff-side, narrowly missing my head. I hit the ground with a thud; scraping my knees on the sharp almost glass-like pieces of crushed coral as I retaliated with a spell that knocked the witch off her feet. Rakepick snarled, running her tongue against her bruised lips as she bared her teeth. She looked like a rearing Chimera; her ice blue eyes gleaming hungrily as she picked herself up.

"Learned a few new tricks from your brother I see," she drawled coolly. "Such a _pity_ he didn't make it. Just like your poor little friend, Miss Khanna …"

I didn't hear her footsteps but she was suddenly looming over me, a cunning smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she pointed her wand at my chest. I felt my limbs harden under her body-binding hex as she let out another laugh, as cruel and clear as the raging ocean.

"After I'm through with you, I'm going to kill each and every one of your pathetic friends, just like I did Rowan." She leaned in, whispering softly in my ear as I struggled to move.

_No. _Not like_ this_.

"I'm afraid that this really _is _the end for you, Curse-breaker," she smiled almost sweetly as she closed her eyes as if savouring the moment before her face slowly began to morph into someone, no, some_thing_ else. Her skin turned a skeletal white, brilliant red hair shrank back into her scalp as her nostrils turned into slits, and, as her eyelids fluttered open it was no longer the gaze of Patricia Rakepick that stared down at me but the crimson reptilian eyes of Lord Voldemort himself.

He reached out to cup my chin, his pale hand like ice as he ran a taloned finger down along my cheek.

"There is no escape," he hissed, "not from me."

Voldemort grinned, red eyes gleaming almost manically in the morning light as he raised his yew wand.

"_Avada_ _Kedavra!" _

I woke up, opening my eyes with a scream. I lay flat on my back, panting hard as though I had just run a marathon. Every inch of my body was covered in a thick layer of icy sweat as I gasped; heart still pounding as Charlie turned on the lights, looking extremely frightened.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, taking great gulps of air as I tried to push myself up in bed, barely resisting the strong urge to throw up.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay – I'm here," Charlie murmured, gently combing my damp hair out of my face with his free hand as he pulled me into a reassuring embrace.

His arms were strong and warm, calming my racing pulse almost instantly and it was only then, did I feel the tears that I'd been trying to fight back finally breakthrough. I buried my face into the warmth of his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart vibrate against my cheek as I quietly sobbed.

He didn't ask again, simply tightening his grip, which enveloped me in his strong clean scent as he continued to smooth his fingers through my tangled hair. I stayed like that, cradled in his arms until I slowly yet surely began to relax in his embrace.

I looked up at him, the slightly orange light from the bedside table shining over his face as his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked tentatively, his voice even more tender than usual as he looked down at me.

I hesitated, averting my eyes as I slowly tried to recall the vivid dream to him: the black cliffs, the howling wind and biting waves – it had all seemed so real.

"She said she'd kill all of you," I whimpered softly, "Just like she did Rowan."

Charlie frowned, the worry evident in his expression as he brushed a stray bit of hair behind my ear.

He nodded and didn't press further when I trailed off again. Whether it was out of respect or purely because he was at a loss for words I couldn't be sure. All I knew is that he was here, his presence acting like a Patronus against the Dementors that haunted the darkest depths of my imagination.

* * *

I didn't remember falling back to sleep that night, but I woke up; feeling completely at home in Charlie's embrace as I opened my eyes to morning light filtering through the balcony window. Tiny fragments of last night's dream flittered through my mind as I sat up, sending shivers down my back as I rubbed away the sleep from my eyes.

"Morning," Charlie crooned, his gaze soft as he opened his eyes.

"Feeling better?"

I nodded, nestling myself into the warmth of his bare chest as he rested his lips against my forehead.

"Good," he smiled, catching my lips in a tender, heart-stirring kiss before he pulled back, if only to get a better look at me. "I have a sleeping draught somewhere in my cabinet if you need it."

"No, don't worry about it," I replied, feeling the steady drum of his pulse beating rhythmically against my cheek. "It was just a nightmare."

"Still," he said, "its always there if you need it, alright?"

"Alright," I smiled, my heart swelling with affection as I kissed him again.

Charlie gaze softened, looping his arms around my waist as he held me close.

"How about I try and make pancakes today?"

* * *

"Are you _sure_ this is how your mum makes pancakes?" I asked.

"Of course!" Charlie replied, plonking a large dollop of batter onto the pan. "I've watched her makes these blueberry pancakes a thousand times, if not more …"

I raised an eyebrow as the stove started to smoke.

"Um, Charlie, sweetie? No offence, but you _do_ realise that pancakes are supposed to be _golden_, not black," I chimed as I watched Charlie struggle to flip the burnt lopsided pancake with his wand.

"It's not black, those are the blueberries," he retorted, "And it's _crispy_, not burnt, see?"

"_Right_," I replied, hugging him from behind as he finally managed to flip the 'crispy' pancake without dropping the frying pan.

He tipped it out onto a clean plate, eagerly cutting off a piece with a spoon before he popped it into his mouth.

"Urgh, that's _awful_!" he exclaimed, spitting the rest out into the sink as I poured him a drink of water.

"Maybe it was a bit _too_ 'crispy'?" I suggested, giggling despite myself as he accepted the glass.

"Oi, don't laugh! My next batch will definitely be better."

His next batch was definitely not better. After a few more attempts, the Weasley finally gave up, chest falling as he slumped into a nearby chair.

"Aw, don't be sad," I said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he let out a sigh of defeat. "Why don't I give it a go?"

* * *

"I don't get it," exclaimed Charlie, "How come yours worked out great and mine didn't?"

"I used sugar instead of salt," I replied.

There was a slight pause as realisation dawned on his face.  
"I accidentally used salt didn't I?"

I nodded.

"That … makes more sense."

* * *

_Later that evening ..._

* * *

"What is it?"

I handed him the letter, unable to say a word and he took it with a frown.

I felt Charlie tremble as he read the letter, eyes widening.

_Bethany, Charlie I hope you're okay, _

_You-Know-Who is back. Don't respond to this letter. Wait for further instruction from Dumbledore about the Order. _

_\- Bill _

"The Order …" he murmured, setting the letter down as I averted my gaze.

"The Order of the Phoenix, yeah," I nodded.

"Wait," Charlie frowned, "how do you know about it?"

"I've always known about the Order," I admitted later as I ran my finger through a line of soot. "Dad was one of their informants. He used to work as an Auror for the Ministry and the Order used our house as one of their bases of operations."

"So you knew Harry's parents?"

"The Potters were old family friends of my parents. James, Sirius and Remus were like big brothers to Jacob, and Lily was like an older sister that I never had …" I trailed off, my voice hitching slightly as I choked back on the sharp pain of emotions that threatened to overcome me.

Charlie's face paled as he began applying dittany to a particularly nasty wound that the dragon had inflicted on its own tail.

"My uncles were members too," he replied hoarsely.

"The Prewett brothers," I nodded, recalling my Dad speaking of them. I'd only met them once, a week before they were ambushed and murdered by five Death Eaters. It would seem that their location had somehow been compromised.

"_Fabian and Gideon didn't go down without a fight mind you,"_ Dad added solemnly when he told my Mum, _"Took down three of the five Death Eaters before they were killed."_

He and Alastor Moody had rushed to the scene, catching one of the said Death Eaters, but by the time they had arrived the damage had already been done. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were lying dead on the floor of their safe house and the Death Eater that they had caught, Antonin Dolohov was sent to Azkaban for his crimes.

There was a far-off stare in the dragon keeper's eyes as he continued bandaging the sleeping dragon's tail.

I squeezed his shoulder, wordlessly providing the comfort he needed as he leaned into my touch before he pulled me into a bone-crushing embrace.

We just stayed like that, entangled with one another like ivy, both with the same question hanging over us: What were we going to do now?

* * *

_So it's truly begun. What will happen next? Stay tuned to find out! - S.G. _


	16. Chapter 15

_We're almost coming to the end of the story, can you believe it? I named this chapter after a song from the musical Les Miserables because it seemed appropriate. Also because with quarantine, there is literally nothing but empty chairs and empty tables. _

_Am I going crazy? Maybe. (I honestly wouldn't be surprised)_

_Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this chapter and know that it has been an absolute joy writing for all of you. _

_Yours truly,_

_Sword Gold _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm not nearly as kind as J.K because I would do so much worse to Wormtail than what she did ..._

* * *

**Empty Chairs and Empty Tables**

* * *

"Is it really true that You-Know-Who has returned?" asked a wizard.

Gasps of horror rippled from the surrounding assembly of witches and wizards as Dumbledore nodded, his blue eyes misted over mournfully.

"I am afraid that the rumours are indeed true. After murdering young student and Triwizard Champion Cedric Diggory, Lord Voldemort has returned to his full power."

"And Mad-Eye?" piped another witch.

"Alive but still recovering," replied Dumbledore.

"What about Crouch? We have his testament, don't we Albus?"

The Headmaster paused, his gaze suddenly darkening as he shook his head.

"Mr Crouch's testimony has been rendered unusable on account of a Dementor performing the Kiss of Death on the man when being escorted by Cornelius Fudge."

More cries of dismay echoed throughout the office before the professor continued.

"There is, however a silver lining to this. When under the imprisonment of Barty Crouch Junior, Alastor says that the wizard mentioned where his master was staying," explained Dumbledore. "And, first, with the disappearance of its muggle gardener Frank Bryce and, after Harry's account of the graveyard I believe that it can indeed be confirmed that Voldemort has been residing at the Riddles' Mansion."

There was a slight pause as the wizard regarded each and every one of us.

"With Harry's escape, of course, it is entirely unlikely for Voldemort to stay at his late father's house for long but there is still, as Alastor insists, nonetheless, a possibility …"

"I'll go," I said. "I studied the Riddles' Mansion when I was still in search for 'R' so I know its layout inside and out. Besides, I'm the only person who can break through their defences without detection."

"Very well," Dumbledore inclined his head.

"No, I won't let you."

It was the first thing that Charlie had said since we'd convened in the Headmaster's office under Dumbledore's instructions.  
I paused, his eyes seeking mine with a sort of fire that I'd never seen before as he grabbed me by the arm.

"I have to," I replied.

His fingers dug into the sleeve of my jacket.

"Then let me come with you," he implored fiercely, "For back up at least …"  
"I can handle myself. Besides, it has to be me – you know that."  
I reach up to cup his freckled cheek in the palm of my hand and he slowly yet surely leaned into it before letting out a long sigh.

"Promise me you'll be careful?" he murmured eventually.

"Always."

"We will await your response when you return," said the professor, "Good luck."

I nodded, pressing a quick kiss to Charlie's lips before I mounted my broom and took off from the balcony.

* * *

I apparated outside the wrought iron gate of what was the Riddle's House in my Animagus form. All of the villagers of Little Hangleton referred to it like that, despite the fact that it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the house was now damp, derelict and unoccupied.

Despite all of the embroidered stories that circled about the old place, everybody who lived in Little Hangleton agreed that it was "creepy", some even claiming that it was haunted, and, upon looking up at the stone mansion it really was no wonder why people thought so.

Shuddering slightly with my senses on edge, I padded towards the house, squeezing through a small gap in the rusted fence before making my way up the winding weed-infested pathway that led to the dilapidated building. The front door of the Riddle House bore no sign of being forced in, nor did any of the windows. After making sure that I was completely alone I transformed back into my usual form and whipped out my Invisibility cloak. Frayed from use and age, my cloak wasn't nearly as pristine as what it had used to be in my sixth year, but it still did the job. Pulling the cowl over my head I tapped my wand on the handle and opened the door noiselessly.

I let myself into the cavernous kitchen, recalling the last time that I had been here. It had been only weeks after my brother's death when I had started scouting out this place as a possible headquarters for 'R' and their Cabal.

I didn't dare light my wand, trusting my memory instead, as I groped my way through the hall, my senses overwhelmed by the stench of decay, ears pricked as the patter of rats scurried overhead. I could just make out the outline of footprints and a cane imprinted in the thick layer of dust that clung to the stone staircase and frowned. They were old.

"_Homenum Revelio_."

Sure enough, the spell confirmed that (save perhaps the rats) there was no other living soul in the building but me. I gulped, unsure whether the fact relieved or disappointed me as I silently climbed up the stairs.

I could make out a door hanging on its hinges when I reached the landing and turned right towards it when something hard hit my shoe.

"_Lumos_."

Light flooded from the tip of my wand, illuminating the path in front of me and my heart froze. I had stepped on an old walking stick, and, lying crumpled beside it …

"Oh no."

My voice died in my throat as I stared down at what was the rotting corpse of Frank Bryce.

* * *

I decided to bury Frank in the garden by what must have been his cottage, making quick work of the icy solid ground before I lay the body in what would become his final resting place. I completed the grave with a loose stone that I'd taken from the house, engraving the man's name with magic before I placed it at its head.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, shutting my eyes as I touched the gravestone.

He, like Cedric, had been murdered in cold blood and for what? Being in the way?

I shook my head. It reminded me of Rowan all over again. Neither one of them deserved this.

That's when I heard the snap of a twig and twirled around, immobilising the spout wizard where he squatted in the bushes.

He squeaked, his pale watery eyes widening with surprise as he fell face-first into the snow; frozen stiff like a wooden marionette.

"I thought I smelt a rat," I murmured, my voice harsh as I kicked him over.

Peter Pettigrew's nose quivered – every bit as rat-like as my scowl deepened.

"You know when I finally learnt who you were I didn't know what I found more disturbing – the fact that you sold your best friends to Voldemort or the knowledge that you'd been sleeping in the same bed as a teenage boy for twelve years."

I could feel my blood boil as I clutched my wand, angrier than I'd ever been for a long time as I crouched down so we were face-to-face.

"Oh don't worry – I'm not going to kill you, Peter," I whispered gently, "I'm just going to make you forget that this ever happened."

He made a silent whimper, sweat dripping down his forehead as I raised my wand.

"_Obliviate_."

* * *

Charlie was still waiting, pacing the corridor outside Dumbledore's office and raking his hands through his hair before he saw me.

"Oh, thank _Merlin_," he breathed, wrapping me in a bone-crushing embrace.

"Told you I'd be careful," I replied

He didn't respond; his face buried into the crook of my neck as I felt the flutter of his pulse still racing against my own.

"I know … I just worry," he murmured, his voice muffled against my collar as I ran my fingers soothingly over his orange hair.

"I know."

We stayed like that for what could've lasted for an eternity until I let out a reluctant sigh.

"I still have to report my findings."

"That you do." Charlie nodded; pressing his lips against my forehead before he let me go.

"Wait for me?" I asked.

He flashed me a soft grin, "Always."

* * *

"You're back," Dumbledore said, inclining his head from his desk as I stepped back into his office.

"I am," I nodded.

Already the assembly of witches and wizards had long since departed so to draw as very little attention to the Order as possible. Fawkes crooned softly from his golden perch. Dumbledore looked up from his piece of parchment, folding his hands over his desk as he waited for me to continue.

"I found the body of the muggle gardener that you mentioned, Frank Bryce."

The headmaster sighed, a resigned sadness misting over his blue eyes before he inclined his head. "I was afraid that might be the case. I assume it would be the same for Miss Bertha Jorkins?"

I nodded, "I couldn't find her body, but I did manage to locate her wand."

I took out what remained of the witch's wand and handed it to him. The wand itself had been split in half, dangling by a single thread of frayed unicorn hair. It reminded me too much of my first wand after Rakepick had destroyed it.

"I see," he said. "I knew from Barty Junior's testament that she was dead, but to see her wand …" he shook his head before he quickly returned to his old enigmatic self. "Any trouble on the way?"

"Well, I did happen to bump into a certain Peter Pettigrew," I admitted, scowling at the mention of his name. "But I don't think he'll be sniffing around anymore, not soon anyway …"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't kill him," I supplied quickly. "I questioned him and removed his memory. Not even Voldemort will be able to trace it back to us."

"It seems that you have grown into quite the talented Legilimens," he pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling behind his moon-crested spectacles as he inclined his head.

"Thank you for doing this," he replied, "I am sure it was not easy to face one of the people who were responsible for the loss of so many loved ones."

I averted my gaze. Of course, he knew.

Jacob, Rowan, and now Cedric: How many more innocents would die in the war to come?

"Listen, professor …"  
"Please, do call me Albus," hummed the headmaster, "You are no longer a student, nor am I your teacher."

"Yes, pro-I mean, Albus," I corrected myself. "I think that I found something that you need to know …"

* * *

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Yes, you're quite right, I think that for now at least, it would be best if we keep this between ourselves."

* * *

We stood in silence on the hilltop at Catchpole Ottery St as the assembly of wizards passed us down the aisle carrying the polished coffin of Cedric Diggory on their shoulders.  
It was almost surreal, watching as the black and yellow shrouded casket was slowly lowered into the ground. I shut my eyes, biting down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood. None of it seemed real: not the coffin, or the headstone that had been delicately carved out with magic, or even Cedric's parents who wept at front; their pale faces etched with grief as their shoulders heaved. In fact, there was still a tiny part of my brain that seemed convinced that Cedric wasn't really dead. He couldn't be.

He was too brilliant, too _young_ to be dead … _Just like Rowan_; the voice rang in my head.

Yet reality mocked me with its unavoidable truth, shuddering through me as the coffin reached the bottom with a definite _thud_.

He was gone. He was really gone.

Cedric was dead. Rowan was dead. Jacob was dead.

They were all dead. I _felt _dead.

Perhaps they were all looking over us from wherever one went after death. Heaven? Hell?  
No, _this_ was Hell I corrected myself – standing here, unable to do anything but just stand completely numb, completely _helpless_ in the face of Death. A small part of me wondered whether this was how Sirius had felt, cold and alone while he rotted in Azkaban for twelve long years …

I wasn't alone though. I could feel Charlie's hand, shaking in mine as he squeezed it tightly and I knew at once that it was his touch that was keeping me from falling into the same abyss as that coffin.

It was his touch that kept me alive.

And, as long as I had that, everything would be all right.

* * *

_Well, that was it! There's still, of course, the Epilogue to go but please let me know in your reviews if you want me to continue this with a new 'Order of the Phoenix' based fanfiction. _

_I'll be eagerly awaiting your response! - S.G. _


	17. Epilogue

_Hello everybody,_

_It's really hard to believe that I've finished yet another Fanfiction. I suppose in a way you can thank the quarantine for 'encouraging' me to write more for that, LOL. _

_Anyway, I hope that you have all enjoyed reading this story and that you are all safe wherever you may be around the world. _

_You guys are honestly the one true inspiration that has been driving me through this entire process and I would like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being the amazing readers that you are._

_Remember to review to let me know whether I should make another story!_

_I love you all. _

_Sword Gold_

_Disclaimer: For the last time I swear to Merlin that I really don't own Harry Potter, though I've got to admit that I wish that I did ..._

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

I stepped out onto the countryside, the gentle pitter-pattering of rain slowly dying as I took in a shaky breath, clutching the small bouquet of flowers in my hand. Before me, the Khanna Farms stretched out in nothing but endless acres of dense woodland for as far as the eye could see.

I shivered, palms trembling as I recalled one of the last times that I'd been here.

I could picture it now; the smooth mahogany lid of Rowan's coffin glistening almost amber in the morning light as Charlie and the conductor carefully lowered it down from the Knight Bus. I shook my head, trying to ignore the weight in my chest as I began to walk down the same path that I had taken so many years ago, this time, on my own. I looked up, smiling slightly as I caught glimpses of small Bowtruckles swinging from the branches of their towering Wiggentrees almost as if they were dancing as I eventually reached the large Iron Gate.

I sucked in another breath as the gate swung inwards with a metallic clang and out stepped a kind-faced witch.

"Bethany!" she beamed, eyes lighting up as she pulled me into a bone-crushing embrace. "I was so happy when I received an owl that you were coming. It's been positively ages since I last saw you, and my, haven't you grown up to become a beautiful young witch?"

"It's so nice to see you too Mrs Khanna," I smiled, hugging her back just as tightly. "I would've come earlier but …"

"I understand," the witch nodded, glancing down at the bouquet of flowers that I was carrying and understanding immediately flittered through her deep brown eyes as I trailed off.

"Would you like some tea?" Mrs Khanna continued, "Both the boys are off chopping trees, so it'll be just the two of us I'm afraid …"  
"I'm afraid I can't stay for long," I apologised ruefully, "After this, I'm off to Albania."

"For curse-breaking business?" Mrs Khanna presumed as she ushered me inside.

"Of sorts," I replied, "The Ministry refuses to acknowledge this, but You-Know-Who has recently returned to full power so …"

Rowan's mother nearly dropped her teapot when I said that.

"I just knew that there was something wrong with the Daily Prophet!" she exclaimed, "Calling Dumbledore 'daft and dangerous' of all things …"

"Really?"

She nodded, handing me the latest copy as she continued to shake her head. "Personally, I've never much listened to the Daily Prophet – especially not with what that Rita Skeeter woman tends to write." She grimaced at the name.

"Huh," I frowned, noticing the by-line, "speaking of which, I would've thought that she'd be the first person to jump to write a scathing article about Dumbledore …"

Mrs Khanna shrugged, "Perhaps she had a day-off?"

"Maybe," I said, though I personally doubted it: Rita Skeeter would rather cut off her hair than let the makings of a juicy story slip through her manicured fingernails.

"I suppose you'll want some time alone outside, wouldn't you?" Mrs Khanna said.

I nodded.

* * *

Sunlight filtered through the towering Wiggentrees as I approached the gleaming tombstone and sat cross-legged beside it.

"Hey, Rowan," I managed a smile, "It's been a while, hasn't it? I got you roses, I know they're your favourite …"  
I trailed off again, blinking back my tears as I placed the flowers at the head of her grave, struggling to maintain my composure.

"We lost another friend, Cedric. Remember him – the super popular first-year from Hufflepuff? Yeah, well he was murdered by Voldemort, of all people." I shook my head, "Is he there with you now? If so, say hello to him for me."

I bit my lip; tears now running freely down either side of my face as I gulped.

"I miss you," I whispered, voice hitched in my throat as I continued. "I miss everything about you: the way you used to laugh, the way we shared notes under the table in Charms class, heck, even your puns! Merlin, I could do with a few of your puns right about now … I suppose it's not surprising really: you were the one that always seemed to know what to say when it came to things like this." I faltered, my voice shaking now as I felt another tear streak down my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to continue as I ran my fingers along each of the intricate engravings:

_Rowan Khanna (1972 – 1990)_

_A loving friend, sister and daughter_

"_May she continue to shine as a beacon of hope through the darkness till the very end of days. _

"She's looking over you too, you know?"

I looked up to see Mrs Khanna holding out a cup of tea and a napkin, her eyes sparkling with tears as she smiled.

I wiped my face on the corner of my sleeve, brushing dirt off my jeans as I slowly stood up. Silence hung heavy in the air as we looked at one another; both momentarily lost for words.

"You … you really think so?" I stammered eventually.

She nodded, "I don't just think so," she replied, "I know so."

* * *

_Wasn't that a bittersweet way to end the story? Once again, thank you for all the love and support that you have given me, not only through this story but all of my others, and I really hope that this won't be goodbye. _

_\- S.G. _


End file.
